


You Said Go Slow

by Alexandria_Allen



Category: Pretty In Pink (1986)
Genre: Cute Kids, F/M, First Time, Internalized Homophobia, Past Drug Use, Regret, Romantic Friendship, Secrets, Slow Build, Unintentional Redemption
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-03-26 09:36:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 61,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19003135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexandria_Allen/pseuds/Alexandria_Allen
Summary: After a tumultuous divorce, Steff Mckee returns to his home town hoping to reboot his life. In the meantime, Andie Walsh intends to carry on with her life as usual. But a series of events slowly push the two of them into the same sphere together. Steff certainly isn't what Andie expected. Andie is still everything Steff hoped she would be.





	1. Chapter 1

**1994, Los Angeles**

 

“I’m sorry, Steff. I’m straight up over it.” Chelsea said, looking her once coveted husband up and down in a perversely trite manner. “I’m over **_you_ **.”

 

Chelsea Lydia Langely-Mckee and never been much for originality. Everything about her from her stereotypical 90’s power skirt suit, to her pearly-pink manicure and ridiculously expensive shoes, was predictable, overused, and overworked on a woman like her. Though not particularly as vapid as his high school girlfriends had once been Chelsea’s few merits as a woman, a wife, and a business professional were stale at best. But she'd had the right family connections, was ivy league educated and was just older than Steff enough that she'd actually improved upon him in the early years of their courtship.

 

Steff Mckee might have been able to live with all that happily enough if only for the sole reason that Chelsea had always been a pretty reliable and consistent lay. Good enough that Steff had been willing to stay faithful to her these last six years even though he had always suspected her own fidelity to him to be far beyond lacking. Even then, Steff could appreciate a loose woman. It meant Steff only had to service her when he was absolutely hard up for release of his own. They’re often intense, mutually aggressive, and resentful lovemaking had gotten them through the last two years mostly unscathed.

 

No. Steff Mckee had very few lines when it came to his person. He certainly knew himself to be a selfish, self-indulgent, prick with a panache for the finer diversions of life. But interestingly enough, Steff did draw a very distinct line in the sand regarding the treatment of those he loved the most. It wasn’t a particularly exhaustive list but it was a list nevertheless. Contrary to popular reputation, Steff Mckee did love people outside of himself. Chelsea had been one of them once upon a time. Now though she was nothing but trash to him. Toxic waste, in fact.

 

“Yes, well I can’t win them all now can I?” Steff muttered flippantly rocking onto his heels. “You really are an exquisite bitch, dearest. I’ll remember you always for it.”

 

“Sticks and stones, lover,” Chelsea muttered dispassionately.

 

 _Oh, you’ll never know how badly I want to break your bones. Every last one of them._ Steff considered darkly, the thought causing a pleasant thin smile to cross his face.

 

“ _Steff…_ ” Chelsea had picked up her suitcases just then and set them by the door for the cabby to pick up for her. After she’d set them down she’d paused in the open archway to glance back at him. Her big brown painted eyes covered in a very convincing sheen. “I know you and I will never be on good terms again. But I hope you give Ellie a chance to make up her own mind about me someday. I’ll always be her mother.”

 

At that emploring remark, Steff very nearly backhanded her right across her already falling face. Instead, though, he exerted what little self-control he had regarding the subject of their daughter and simply shoved his balled fists firmly into his blue suit pockets and laughed.

 

“No, Chel. You’ll always be the woman who betrayed her. Someday if our daughter decides to forgive you for that maybe she’ll have proved to be a better person than either of us are. Until then she’s got twelve years to think about it. In the meantime, if you ever try to contact **_my_ **daughter again I’ll kill you. We clear?”

 

Chelsea frowned at his statement. Not so much because she was afraid of Steff Mckee, but because he’d beaten her at something she’d never expected to care about. Despite the times, and all her extensive efforts, Chelsea had lost custody of their daughter. Not just in part but in full. Steff hadn’t just bought her off either. Although their divorce settlement had been newsworthy in terms of the compensation he’d settled on her to ensure she stayed out of their lives. The real angle that had stunned her was just how much Steff Mckee had wanted to raise Ellie. How important fatherhood had become to him. It was a trait in character no one who had any passing knowledge of Steff would have seen coming. Yet when he remarked nearly offhandedly that he could be driven as far as to kill for their child, Chelsea knew he was being entirely serious.

 

“Try not to fall off that pedestal you’re building for yourself, dearest. Pride cometh before the fall. There’s no evidence that Ellie even remembers what happened.” Chel muttered not quite defensively as the cabbie walked up and took her bags.

 

“For both our sakes you damn well better hope that’s true.” Steff dispassionately muttered. “So long, Chel. May you catch a heel and break that pretty neck of yours on your way out.”

 

“Cute,” Chel muttered, shaking her head dismissively as she followed the cabbie down the external walkway and left with him.

 

_Good-fucking-riddance._

 

From that moment on Steff planned to never think of Chelsea Langley-Mckee again. For now all that mattered was that Steff could make preparations to bring his little girl home. Everything had been finalized that morning. Custody and his divorce. Steff Mckee was now a free man once more. Despite that they had produced a child together, Steff knew he would forget Chelsea far sooner than what was probably decent. But that was just how Steff was. He didn’t believe in dwelling in the past more than was absolutely necessary.

 

~@~

 

Andie Walsh stepped back from her window display with a critical eye. To her satisfaction, the lettering she’d been diligently hand painting was perfectly aligned and proportioned for what she had intended to achieve.While it was still early spring, Easter was just around the corner as where many of the spring fashion functions for both teenagers and adults. Contrary to popular speculation, Andie hadn’t gone straight away to design school after graduation. Instead she’d enrolled in the local community college majoring in business and marketing. A worthwhile complement to her extensive design skills. While allowing her to remain close to her father,  Andie’s education had made it possible to not only make the clothes of her imagination but sell them effectively.

 

Her modest boutique Think Pink! had been inspired by a scene in one of her favorite classic films, Funny Face. Think Pink! Had been open three years now and was nearly completely in the black. Another year, or two of saving and Andie thought she might be able to expand and maybe even join forces with a few other local entrepreneurs she knew in the immediate area.

 

All in all Andie had carved out a comfortable living that afforded her enough independence to do exactly what she wanted with herself. Independence was all she’d really ever wanted.

 

While most people aspired to get out of her part of Los Angeles, Andie had found the slightly dumpy houses and mom and pop businesses to be familiar and manageable. Not to mention all of her unorthodox family was still here. Eight years, since high school and her father, was still living at home, now with a woman named Louise who not only loved her father but enjoyed having him home where she could take care of him.

 

Duckie was still here too though he traveled frequently as a music promoter and small-time manager of the Duckettes. An all-girl band -of course- of slowly ebbing local fame.

 

Iona too still owned and ran TRAX. She was still a force of nature who was perpetually stuck in the 80's and who frequently time traveled everywhere else if only through her personal style. When she wasn't working in her own store she was either helping Duckie manage his “Girls” or assisting Andie with her ad campaigns will they both helped with the Duckettes touring costumes.

 

All in all, life had gone on. Everyone important in Andie's life had settled into situations that suited them best. At twenty-six Andie considered herself and her friends to be successes and why shouldn't they have been?

 

Think Pink! was a boutique and consignment shop featuring a small selection of vintage pieces, Andie's personal lines of fashion she'd spent the last five years developing, and a series of custom work. The custom jobs were her favorite. She'd also recently begun to slowly experiment with accessories.

 

Today Andie and Iona were experimenting with haberdashery.

 

“I can't believe we haven't thought about this sooner. Hats are totally,  _tres chic_!” Iona proclaimed.

 

“I was sort of worried they might not sell in large quantities. I mean I like hats but who wants to go around this town looking like me?” Andie muttered, not even realizing she'd just put herself down absentmindedly.

 

“Honey, you need to get out more. Half the women in this town under the age of twenty-five wear at least a few of your contributions in a week. Face it. You're on trend. Ahead of the trends even.” Iona insisted with a dismissive wave if her hand.

 

Andie could help but laugh. Iona was the best at reminding Andie of her personal accomplishments though she sometimes thought Iona exaggerated a little bit. According to her sales figures, there was no way in hell half the twenty-somethings around town were wearing Andie's brand. It was more like one out of thirty. If that. But in a way that's how Andie preferred it. It would have been mortifying to walk the streets of Orange and see nothing but traces of her own style all over the place. Andie had never enjoyed much recognition. It was one of her primary flaws.

 

"Duckman's coming home this weekend. Mmm, that man makes me weak in the knees. He's like..Elton, Prince, and Jaggar all rolled up in a derpy little heterosexual burrito. God...those electric hips." Iona swooned.

 

"Whatever you do, don't tell him that to his face or he'll have me make him a purple zoot suit. The fabric is a nightmare." Andie teased.

 

Just then, the bell on the door rang and Andie 's only official employee came stomping through the door.

 

"Cheese and rice! It coming down hard out there all of a sudden." Jena Hoeman said.

 

"Hey." Both women said in unison.

 

"You think that window arts going to even dry under that awning?" Jena asked.

 

"If it doesn't I'll just redo it," Andie said.

 

Coming more fully into the shop Jena scuttled around the counter to pull off her rain boots, quickly replacing them with a set of black combat boots.

 

"Wanna know what I just heard on my way in?" Jena muttered, her brows wiggling suggestively.

 

"Spill it, girlfriend," Iona said.

 

"Somebody bought the place on Craig Street. You know, that shop with the apartment over it down the street?" Jena said.

 

"Holy Toledo. Did someone buy it? That's a trendy little piece of real estate. Too rich for most people I know. Who bought it? Do we know?" Iona asked.

 

Besides general curiosity, there was a strong possibility that the commercial space below the apartment was to be utilized again and depending on what went in, it was possible that Andie would have to deal with a competitor.

 

"I was curious about that too. So I asked around." Jena explained.

 

 **"And…"** The other two said in unison.

 

"You’re not going to believe this but it's Steff McKee. I saw him out there on the street talking and hugging up on some classy dame.” Jena said.

 

“You must have seen wrong. It probably wasn’t him.” Andie muttered.

 

“Yeah, like Hell it wasn’t. Even with a more modern style, no one could mistake that gorgeous feathered hair of his and the way he stands and shit. Steff Mckee might be a lot of things but he is **_not_ ** someone who blends. God, he was a shithead in high school though. I gotta say I never thought he'd come back here." Jena said.

 

"Why anyone like him would come back to Orange is beyond me," Andie said in mild disbelief.

 

The thought of Steff McKee of all people coming back to town and taking up residence on Craig Street seemed laughable. THis wasn’t exactly a side of town people with his pedigree loitered in let alone took up residence within. The street was made up mostly of kitschy shops mom and pop eateries, and empty window fronts. Buying the property in order to lord over whoever's rented it and the commercial space below it on the other hand...That was something Andie could picture.

 

"Oh, I got another piece of juicy information. I heard it a couple of days ago but didn’t think anything of it. I don’t know the details, but I guess he got divorced from some high profile dame from out east." Jena explained.

 

"Wait...Steff was married? No. I can’t picture it." Andie muttered.

 

"Believe it or not, doll; it's true." Jena confidently said. "Eh, and frankly? I'm not **that** surprised."

 

"Why is that?" Andie asked.

 

"I dunno. The guy always struck me as kinda lonely. I'm not surprised that he went off and found someone to try and settle down with." Jena shrugged.

 

"Lonely my ass. Steff Mckee was the most popular guy in  our high school across the grades." Andie argued.

 

"Yeah but think about who most of those nit wits were? Benny and her bimbos. A bunch of preppy-yes-men-silver-spoon-ivy league rejects. Not a single one of them had a brain of their own except for maybe Blane.  But even that little punk wet his pants at the thought of disappointing his waspy country club parents and their friends. In reality, Steff always struck me as a dark horse loner. Had he not been so blazed and wasted through most of high school...I dunno. I just always got the impression he did a lot of that shit because he was bored by everything." Jena explained.

 

"Bored and lonely. I suppose I could see that about him as a kid." Iona agreed.

 

Andie rolled her eyes. "All I remember about Steff McKee was how much of an arrogant spiteful jerk he was. To me and just about everyone else by the end."

 

"Yeah, he was pretty hateful." Jena agreed. "I guess once he disappeared a few months after that Amanda Trombley girl died, I just assumed I'd never hear about him again."

 

"God, that was tragic. I guess I never realized Steff and her were that close. I mean I knew she was apart of Benny's bitch stick group but I don’t remember seeing him at the funeral." Andie remarked.

 

Andie and Duckie had gone to the funeral. Most of their graduating class that hadn't immediately left town had been there including Benny's posse. While most of the girls had shed tears for their fallen friend, Benny had mostly smacked her chewing gum and studied her nails through the event.

 

"I heard her family asked Steff to speak at her funeral but he flat out refused to attend and Blane had to do it instead," Jena informed them.

 

"That poor girl. She had a hard life from what I understand. Some just don't bounce back from her kind of upbringing." Iona mused.

 

"Did you know the family?" Jena inquired.

 

"Sure. Frank Trombley and I went to high school together. The man was a drinker and a brute even back then." Iona explained.

 

"Wow. I had no idea." Andie muttered.

 

"I know. The longer I go in this world the more I question whether I really know most people at all. The present and connected company excluded of course. I dunno. Everyone's got their side of the story, kiddos. Sometimes it's the stories we don't know that surprise us."  Iona said.

 

"A sad backstory is no excuse for being an asshole." Andie muttered. "God, I really hope I never run into Steff on the street. I guess it's a good thing. I doubt he'd not have any reason to come over here if the rumors are true." Andie said.

 

After that, all three women got back to getting the shop ready for opening and the topic moved back to Duckie and their plans to celebrate his return.

 

~@~

 

That same morning before the rain started Steff stepped out of the plush home he'd shared with his now ex-wife for the last time. The house had been a wedding present from Steff's parents. At the time, he hadn't had the energy to turn them down. But now looking back on it the memory of the house made Steff inwardly cringe.

 

 _This place is not_ **_our_ ** _home. It was never a home at all. I love you, Ellie, When I come to get you, I promise I'll take you home for real this time._

 

If Steff had his way he would have burned the house to the ground. But the money from its liquidation was sorely needed elsewhere and so Steff had restrained himself. Steff exited the house and pulled the front door tightly shut and as he turned the key one final time locking in the unwanted parts of his most recent past, he let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

 

 _This is over. Everything is going to be alright now. No more mistakes._ Steff consoled himself.

 

If he had been able, he would have driven the three hours back to his parents home and taken his daughter back from them right there and then. But in reality, doing so was impractical. His new place wasn't set up yet and although Steff desperately wanted to be reunited with his daughter, he could not abide by ignoring his practical living obligations.  It was only Monday and Steff had made arrangements to pick Ellie up at the start of the weekend.

 

"Well, Mr. McKee. Are you ready to come home now?" Janet Lee caught his old keys in mid-air and dangled his new ones out in front of her to take after he'd arrived to join his realtor and friend on the street in front of the building he now owned.

 

Steff planned to live above the primary corner commercial shop. There were about three or four other spaces for businesses but until now rental space had been too costly for most businesses to stay very long.

 

Steff slammed his car door shut and came up onto the sidewalk to meet his old childhood friend.

 

"I am. Think it's safe to go back to a first name basis now  Mrs. Lee?" Steff smirked in his famous smug manner and plucked the building keys out of her grasp.

 

"As memory serves, it's never completely safe for any woman to be on a first name basis with you babe." Janet teased.

 

Steff grabbed his chest in mock indignity. Huffing at her and swooning.

 

"Ouch, Janie. You wound me. I am nothing if not an absolute gentleman were **_fine_ ** ladies are concerned." Steff recited.

 

"Man...That almost sounded sincere. Good thing your single now." Janet remarked.

 

"Yes. Good thing you're not. How **_are_ ** Scotty these days?" Steff inquired.

 

"Happy as all Hell. He loves that I work instead of him and I love that he loves it. When you're ready Steff you should come over to the house with Ellie. Donna and Ryan would love to play with her and _we_ would love to see you." Janet insisted.

 

"Yeah." Steff slouched and shoved is fists into his pockets laying back against his car. "I just think I need to take some time. You know? Get used to things."

 

Steff McKee had never been someone good at masking his emotions. It was precisely because he couldn't hide his vulnerabilities that his temperament had often come off so caustic towards people. Lashing out at others was a cover for just how easy it was to touch steff's delicate core. Luckily time, experience, and sobriety had helped Steff to temper himself enough to come off more self-deprecating and less spiteful than had been his norm in his younger years.

 

Right now Steff was on the near verge of tears. Janet's compassion for him was reassuring because she was a genuinely good person, but it was also threatening because her consideration made him feel exposed.

 

Janet saw the conflict in his features. It was heartbreaking. For the briefest of seconds Janie thought about saying something. She thought righteously about sticking up for Steff and reminding him that the root of what had happened in the last several months was not his fault. But despite being life long friends, Janie didn't dare trigger him. Best of friends or not if Steff was compelled to strike he wouldn't discriminate regarding his target.

 

"Thank you for helping me, Janie." Stuff muttered suddenly. "I would have never been able to pull this off without you."

 

Janet's surprise at his turn towards gratitude was evident on her face.

 

 _God, I really must have been a fucking asshole to everyone all these years._ Steff observed.

 

Unable to contain her emotion Janet grabbed Steff by the arm and pulled him back up on the sidewalk so that she could hug him properly.

 

"You've worked hard, Steff. You deserve this reboot on your life. I'm so proud of you. Everyone in your life is proud of you for doing what you did. Stay strong and keep in touch. Ok?" She demanded.

 

Steff did not resist her embrace and instead wrapped his arms protectively around her shoulders hugging her even more tightly to him as he kissed her on her forehead. At that moment Steff only felt deep gratitude and relief.

 

"I will. I promise." He muttered.

 

Steff finally let her go and walked Janet to her car, opening the driver's door for her.

 

"I'll call you at the end of next week, Janie. Be safe and go stick that big commission check in Scott's face. If he happens to knock you up over it, I hope you consider naming the resulting kid after me. Now get going. It's starting to rain." He said.

 

Stepping back from the curb Steff watched his friend pull away.

 

The rain was not subtle. As soon as she was out of sight the sky broke open and without any wind to soften it  came down in tepid heavy sheets. Steff lazily backed up until he was under the awning but made no effort to try and seek cover indoors. The drenching rain fit his mood perfectly just then. He imagined it as a kind of natural baptism promising him protection, redemption, and grace.

 

Eventually, the sound of a truck door slamming in the distance caught his attention through the rain as he caught sight of a woman about his age dressed like punk go bounding across the street. It felt like she'd been staring at him. Steff understood that the sensation would occur often in the next days and weeks. Orange wasn't a big city and word tended to travel fast. Steff's return would be eager gossip fodder for the locals. He knew.

 

_Well, let em talk and have their fun._

 

He didn't care a wink what people thought about him anymore.

 

The building the woman had disappeared into looked new. Or rather Steff new it hadn't been there when he'd left town years ago. It was comforting to see that things did indeed change. He was also pretty sure that the woman he’d seen was somebody from high school. She was the right age and there was something familiar about her permed frizzy dirty blonde hair. Hopefully whoever it was would speak well of him.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

 

If there had ever been any neutral territory between the classes in Orange, Cats Nightclub was it. For people like Andie, Cats was a much-needed refuge where a person could sit and conference or commiserate with their friends without being hassled. For others, Cats was a place to slum it and escape the crushing expectations of their relations and peers. The music at Cats was always good but rarely overbearing, catering specifically to local players and unknowns. As a result, Cats was always packed on the weekends and catered to the more sedate crowds on weekdays. 

 

In the 70's Cats had been the edgy underground place to be, in the 80's it had been youthful and trendy, and now by the 90's the club was a welcome local treasury of music history, community lore, and the setting of various shenanigans both past and present of both the new and those waxing nostalgic.

 

For Andie and her friends, Cats was the definition of home for all of them.

 

For Duckie, in particular, it had proven to become his primary base of operations. 

 

After word had gotten around that he'd not only beat the shit out of Steff McKee over the honor of a woman but done so while not actually ending up with the girl in question his reputation had gained some serious credibility. But what had really skyrocketed Duckie to legendary status was that the rumors had caught the attention of Danielle Annette Kristy, a young woman destined to become the youngest and most successful person from their graduating year. 

 

That final summer Duckie enjoyed one of the most famous rebounds in Orange and by the end of the summer, he'd not only been ushered into manhood by "Duckette" but finally managed to walk into Cats under his own power.

 

The rest was history.

 

As was their ritual whenever Duckie rolled back into town, Iona and Andie settled into the front and center table that was reserved for them at Cats.

 

A few years ago the bouncer Andrew (the Dice-Man) Clay had inherited the job of running Cats in full from his now-retired cousin.

 

“Well ladies, are you ready to see what Mr. Duckie Dale has in store for us?” He rhetorically asked. “I want you to know that tonight’s performance was personally sponsored by yours truly.”

 

Dice plucked at his collar and looked on as the house lights went down.

 

Moments later the crowd burst into cheers when a perfect James Brown scream erupted from the screen and the stage lights started up. Although not entirely a bad singer, Dickie Dale was best known for his lip syncing and his funky moves. Duckie was a fearless performer and the most entertaining ham in Orange.

 

In seconds the whole crowd was on their feet jamming to James Brown’s Get Up Offa That Thing with Duckie, dressed in primary colors of red blue and yellow, leading the charge and egging the crowd on with his electric moves.

 

Yep, Philip “Duckie Dale” was back and that meant good vibes for all. 

 

After making a proper show of himself, Duckie Jived his way off the stage and into Andie’s arms as the Duckette’s took the stage and started up a sultry cover of Stevie Wonder’s Superstition. As per usual they would play a surprise set or two for everyone before they headed to their respective homes to relax for a week before they went back out on the road.

 

Iona, Andie, and Duckie simply laughed and hugged up on each other for the first forty-five minutes not bothering to try and talk over the music together. 

 

Meanwhile, Steff Mckee arrived sometime in the late evening. No one saw him initially come in thanks to the band. Steff quickly flagged down Dice and the two men disappeared into the back to talk business.

 

“Hello Drew.” Steff said dryly once they could properly hear each other. “It’s good to see you in person.”

 

“Steff Mckee. As I live and breath. It really is you. Not a kid anymore, I see.” Dice observed.

 

“No.” Steff agreed. “Now a day, I’m raising one.”

 

“No shit? Never pictured you to get in the family way. What’s brought you back here? Love, lust, or heartbreak?” Dice had seen every one of the kids of the last generation grow up and discover the realities of life. It never ceased to interest him what those kids were destined to become once reality hit them in the face.

 

Steff didn’t reply but his look was weathered and stone-faced.

 

“Mm. Heartbreak. Alright then. The Dice Man can get behind that. What do you want, kid? Certainly not a job.” Dice inquired.

 

“Cash, actually. As of right now, I have approximately a hundred and fifty thousand to put on the table. I’m asking another two hundred and fifty to invest. As you may know, I bought the Craig Street property. I want to turn the lower level into a wine and beer bar. Real classy. If you invest with me I‘m prepared to offer you partial ownership not exceeding the limit of five years. Regardless of the success or failure, I can guarantee you a 35% return on the investment within three years. Here are the business plans and all the specifics you need to know.” Steff said.

 

After that, he dropped a professional looking proposal on the table along with proof of a certified check proving he was serious about his contributions.

 

Dice plucked up the plan and read through the executive summary before browsing through the projected financial statements. Even at first glance, it was clear that the plan was comprehensive.

 

“You want to create an offshoot of Cats?” Dice asked.

 

“More like a subsidiary. The Kitten club will be more jazz and R&B focused. There’s a following in this community for that but Cats has traditionally been too large to attract the demographic beyond the occasional specialty nights. The Kitten Club would be more intimate and personalized. High brow all the way." Steff explained.

 

Dice opened the accompanying portfolio that had a rendering of the Kitten Club's intended design.

 

"You do these yourself?" Dice conversationally asked.

 

Steff slowly tipped his head to the affirmative.

 

"What do you think?" Steff pressed.

 

"I think you've done your homework. I'll need time to look over this and I want to see the place myself. Staffing is going to make or break you in a joint like this. You find the right manager and I'll think about it. That fair, kid?" Dice inquired.

 

"I accept that challenge. Give me three weeks." Steff requested.

 

"Deal, kid. In three weeks I'll give you my final verdict." Dice agreed.

 

'I promise in three weeks I'll have something for you to see." Steff remarked.

 

Steff had already begun laying the groundwork earlier that day. The ceiling and bones of the building were largely already what Steff wanted. His initial investment was mostly about demolitioning the lower interior storefronts walls to create one consistent space and to bring the interior design through the entire block of buildings. The Kitten Club would feature a speakeasy-style bar focusing on inspiring mixed drinks and high brow bourbon and whiskey. The back building would be treated like a cocktail lounge and private staging area, the middle would include the main bar featuring a grand piano and the front building would feature small plate fine dining and patio space. 

 

Steff had painstakingly mapped out every square inch of the place. Dice’s investment would allow him to bring in the best of the best in food and liquor and be used to set up the proper acoustics of the space. If everything went right Craig Street would become a trendy place to be and because there wasn’t any other establishment similar to it on the block there would be little direct competition and the local businesses around the club would benefit. It was important to Steff not to hurt the established community.

 

After a few more minutes of chit chat, Dice clapped Steff on the back and offered to walk him out. 

 

“I’ll see you in three weeks, kid. Can’t wait to see what you got up your sleeve. Take care of you and yours.” Dice said.  

 

The two men had stopped at the edge of the main bar.

 

“Thank you, Drew. Thank you for your time. I’ll see you in three weeks.” Steff shook hands firmly with Dice. There was a genuine if stoic look on gratitude on his face.

 

As steff turned and began to pick his way through the bar crowd towards the main exit, a feeling that someone was staring at him caused him to briefly pause as if he was waiting for someone to move out of his way. In doing so he took a moment to slowly sweep the crowd for whoever it was that was looking at him. At first, it was hard to tell. The band was lively tonight and lots of people were standing and dancing, but just then the music died down long enough for Steff to get a better view of the seated crowd.

 

That was when Steff saw him. 

 

Philip “Duckie” Dale was staring at him through the crowd. A look of stunned disbelief on his face. Steff Mckee would have recognized him anywhere and for a second he swore he could taste the iron tang of his own blood in his mouth once more. Steff had never been much for physical confrontation. Unless sufficiently angered, he was a piss poor fighter relying more on the element of surprise than anything the few times in his life he had thrown down. Duckie Dale had not been much different than him in that regard. 

 

To this day Steff was still unsure what precisely had provoked Duckie Dale to come at him during their senior year just before Prom. Steff had always supposed the bewildering assault had been over the defense of Andie Walsh. Duckie and she were best friends after all and it was a known fact that the Duckman had been smitten with his best friend through the entirety of their high school years. 

 

Still, Steff hand never fully understood why Duckie had flipped his shit on him. Of all the girls anywhere Steff had ever spoken ill of, he’d actually been the most restrained about Andie Walsh. Steff had genuinely liked her in high school. More importantly he’d always been secretly impressed and mindful of her. Unfortunately, it was exactly because Steff thought so highly of her that he’d made such a resounding fuck up of their acquaintance the few times he had directly spoken to her. It was possible that Duckie Dale knew Steff had spoken badly of her. But even so, he had always maintained that, of anyone, Blane McDonough had done Andie Walsh far more dirty than anyone else had and if anyone deserved to have their asses handed to them that day it had been Blane and not him.

 

The thought of Blane, Andie, and Steff’s conduct that final year caused a distasteful frown to slip over Steff’s features. Senior year and the preceding summer and fall after had been the worst time of Steff’s life. Second now only to the details surrounding his more recent custody battle and divorce.

 

_ You can't change the past. Your not that person anymore.  _ Steff reminded himself.

 

Steff held Duckies gaze for a full minute utterly unaware that he was still frowning. Eventually, Duckie wrapped his arm around someone next to him.snapping his finger to get Iona’s attention.

 

Shit.

 

Steff didn’t need this particular reunion right now. This wasn’t high school anymore.

 

Running into Duckie Dale even from a distance was bad enough. Steff remembered well how Andie and her friends had like to hang out in Cats. Occasionally when Steff and his friends had been there at the same time, Steff had liked to nonchalantly watch Andie from the bar where he’d commonly sat drinking always somehow apart from everyone else even when he was supposed to be the main attraction. Andie, he noted, never once noticed him watching her in Cats. No one had noticed because no one really knew or understood him back then. With perhaps the exception of Blane. It had been for that reason alone the young men had once been best friends.

 

Just as Andie began to catch wind of Duckie's discovery and began to turn in her chair to look, Steff broke eye contact in an unaffected manner and disappeared into the crowd and out of Cats entirely. 

 

There were still things he needed to accomplish that night. Andie Walsh and her friends were not the people he wanted to be reacquainted with just then and would have to wait until Steff was good and ready to deal with them.

 

Another time, another place. 

 

When Stef had originally arrived at Cats he’d had a long word with some of the older bar staff. Mostly inquiring about the possible whereabouts of various people that he suspected were still living in the area. Anyone over the age of forty-five who was still working in Cats was fully aware of all the most popular gossip. The various fates of all the trust fund babies that had reached maturity in the last decade were a popular subject in Orange, especially among the working class. After dropping a few key names, Stef had gathered the information he needed. One bit if he could follow up on right away. The other would take a little while.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

 

Benny Hanson had always been a snob. 

 

But unlike most of her male friends, she was not an official trust fund kid. Unlike people like the Mckee’s or the McDonough’s who had built their legacies specifically intending for their offspring to assume control of those legacies someday, Benny’s family had simply been wealthy in general. Even so, she was only respectably rich and not disgustingly well off like Steff’s family was or as vastly connected to old money and the local community like Blane’s family were. 

 

Benny’s family had simply gotten lucky in the real estate market. In any other universe, they could have just as easily been situated firmly in the middle class.

 

Unlike many of her male friends, there never had been any expectation of Benny to continue with the family business or do anything more than marry well. The lack of any real expectation of her had come through in her poor academics and vain preoccupations growing up. Her entire identity for most of her life was rooted in a thin veneer of financial superiority. When she had been a kid Benny would have never fathomed how fragile certain kinds of superiority could be.

 

Cappy's was a well-known bar and restaurant only slightly more high brow than a strip joint. All the waitstaffs were women and the management men. All the women were expected to flaunt themselves without totally crossing the line into full-blown vulgarity and everyone was supposed to keep a liberal attitude about the conduct of the clientele. 

 

Basically, the place was grab-ass central. But the tips were the best in town for the prices and nobody had to take their shirts off to get them. 

 

Even at his worst, Steff was not the type to tolerate a place like Cappy's. As far as he was concerned the place was equivalent to a skin bar and Steff simply had a low tolerance for bought fantasy and fabricated attraction. While he had certainly been known to take rejection badly, he was not a lecherous person and preferred enthusiastic consent in all cases.

 

Entering Cappy's, Steff made a hasty line for the most remote booth possible as he ignored the crawly feeling under his skin and shook off his private distaste. The place smelled like buffalo sauce and stale beer. 

 

There were about half a dozen waitresses working the floor that night. All of them dressed in low cut short-skirted uniforms. All of them, regardless of age, wore heavy masks of makeup no doubt intended to create a bawdy effect.

 

To him, it all appeared clownish and ghastly and the smell was making him nauseous. 

 

Eventually, the very waitress he was hoping to see approached him. Hardly paying attention to his features as she rattled off her speil and asked him if he wanted to start with a Cappy Cocktail.

 

"Ice tea and lemon," Steff muttered. "What's it take to get your number these days,  _ sugar bear?" _

 

Benny Hanson began to inwardly groan at the familiar pick up line as she quietly stiffened preparing her subtle defensive. But the final term of endearment, or rather the intimate and familiar way it was said caused her to snap to attention as she actually looked at her patron.

 

"Steff McKee. Well, Jesus fucking christ. Now I've seen everything." Benny flatly said.

 

"Shocking to see me in a shithole like this, I know. I guess I could say the same thing about you, yeah Babe?" Steff cocked his head to the side and looked up at her with warm aware eyes.

 

Benny wiggled her lower jaw slowly from side to side as if considering if he was mocking her or not.

 

"What do you want, Steff?" She asked at length.

 

"A talk. Preferably anywhere else but here. When do you get done?" Steff asked lightly.

 

"I'm not interested." She said in a low tone.

 

"I'm sorry. What did you say, please?" Steff asked, feigning as if he hadn't heard her.

 

Benny scoffed.

 

"And to think I used to think that stuff was cute. I'll bring you.. _.Iced tea_." Benny's tone was openly annoyed as she turned on her heels and began to walk away.

 

"That's a nice charm bracelet you have there.  **_How old is she_ ** ? Mine is almost six and we're still working on friendship bracelets and daisy chains." As Benny glanced behind her startled by his sudden observation and remarks, Steff inched up the cuff of his sports jacket to show off a very thin red braided thread bracelet of his own.

 

"I'm not trying to come onto you, Bernadette. I just want to talk. I need your help if you want to know. If tonight isn't convenient then we can talk tomorrow or the next day. Just tell me when and where and I'll be there.” Steff earnestly pressed.

 

He had no intention of taking no for an answer at this point. Steff needed to know just how many friends he had left. God knew he was lucky to have any.

 

Hearing all of this Benny slowly turned back around and walked back towards him. 

 

“What the Hell kind of ploy is this? You look like Steff Mckee but I’m starting to think you’re some kind of alien or something only masquerading as him. I get off at one just before last call. I usually like to be on the road before all these drunks are, seeing as I have a kid to go home to. There’s a little all-night diner down the street. You’ve got an hour of my time. But Steff...I swear to God...if you come onto me later or try to rope me into some crazy scheme I’ll slap the living shit out of you.” Benny threatened him.

 

Steff had no doubt she meant it. While Benny Hason may have had expensive and quality tastes, Steff had personally witnessed her flinty side. He also remembered how mean her right hook was thanks to her response to Steff breaking up with her at the end of senior year. As bewildering and embarrassing as it had been to have Duckie Dale nearly knock his lower front teeth out just before prom, Benny had out done Duckie by effectively breaking his nose. Luckily Steff had been half stoned and entirely wasted when she’d done it. Although he’d been a coward back then when it came to facing honest feelings, Breaking up with Benny had been the right thing to do. At the time, Steff had been privately spirling and had they stayed together he would have taken her right down with him.

 

Apparently, though, Benny didn’t exactly see their former relationship or it’s demise the same way. 

 

“You’re a real piece of shit, you know,” Benny muttered a few hours later as she sat across from him in the diner blowing smoke out of the corner of her mouth.

 

Huffing Steff puffed out his cheeks and let out the air in them with an audible poof. “Yeah. I know.”

 

Stef flailed his arms with his elbows resting on the table. “Could you do me a favor and maybe put that out. For one I don’t think you're supposed to be smoking in here and for another, I quit smoking when my ex got pregnant and I still desperately miss it. So maybe, I dunno, lay off a bit. Please?”

 

Benny glared at him with her overdone cat eyes and exhaled the entirety of her final drag in his face, she then slowly snubbed it out on her napkin.

 

This finally pushed Steff the wrong way.

 

“I  **_told you_ ** to lay the fuck off. Jesus. What the fuck is wrong with you? Seriously? What are you so pissed with me about? Do you even know or did you meet me here just to prove what a raging bitch you can be?” There it was. Steff’s famous acidic temper.

 

“Oh sweetheart, don’t flatter yourself. It’s been practically a millennia since you and I knew each other. So just cool your tits. I’m just getting a little of my own back.” Benny muttered dryly.

 

“Oh yeah. I get you. I guess breaking my nose the summer of senior year didn’t count.” Steff muttered once again regaining his even tone.

 

“It counted, but that was just a down payment. You skipped town before I could really dig my claws in. Looking back I guess I should have seen it all coming. You were never much of a boyfriend.” For now, most of the malice had gone out of Benny’s tone as she critically looked him over.

 

“ _ I beg your pardon, I never promised you a rose garden. _ ” Steff quoted. “I know...I know I hurt you back then. I was a coward and a jerk and I sure as hell didn’t deserve you. I tried to be good for you. I really did. But I wasn’t and I thought you deserved better than that.”

 

“I can’t believe you're quoting Lynn Anderson songs right now.” Benny scoffed, but there was just a ghost of a smile on her lips.

 

Lynn Anderson’s song; _ I Beg Your Pardon, I Never Promised You a Rose Garden, _ had been playing on the record player in Steff’s bedroom when Benny had innocently handed over her virginity to Steff. At first, neither had planned to date. But after several weeks of experimental fucking, they’d become accustomed to each other and people had just assumed they were a couple. Steff had always been playful and gentle with her. He had been an accommodating lover even if standard intercourse was rather rare between them. Likely because of his alcohol and drug use Steff typically hadn’t liked using condoms because they often made him go soft. But he also hadn’t been the type to put Benny at risk by fucking her without one. Instead, their sex life had been a blur of assisted masturbation, oral sex, slow and intimate dry sex that lasted all night and kept them both entirely satisfied.

 

“Sorry, but it was our song, after all.” Steff pointed out. “And I was a fucking fantastic boyfriend. I never forgot your birthday or a present on special occasions and I like to believe you didn’t fake every orgasm I gave you. Unless you did, in which case you deserve a goddamn Oscar because you certainly could have fooled me.”

 

“You were a good lay. I’ll never deny that much.” Benny conceded.

 

“So what happened? You were fine when I left.” Steff observed.

 

Benny shook her head and leaned back in her seat. “Daddy was indicted for embezzlement in the fall of that year. Some sort of timeshare Ponzi scheme. The judge threw the book and him and us.  Overnight it seemed like we lost everything. Out of spite and self-preservation, mother divorced him over it. The whole thing was ugly and with my parents in shambles and most of my friends gone...I got stupid.”

Benny paused as a distant look came over her eyes. Steff could tell she wasn’t proud of what had happened.

 

“Someone hurt you, Ben?” Steff probed softly as a whole different kind of anger began to percolate under the surface of his features.

 

“No. Everything that happened was consensual. When daddy got indicted one of his rich friends started coming around a lot. Mother was beside herself and at first it seemed like he was coming around for her. It started off innocent. He’d bring flowers for mother just to help keep her morale up but then he started bringing little presents for me. A broach. An encouraging birthday card. I’d go out to the club and find a table set up for me. After a while, I caught on. I’m not stupid. I was pretty and young. Vulnerable. No real support. So when he invited me on a trip to Aspen with him I took him up on it and we started having an affair. He was really good at making me feel safe. Like someone gave a damn.” Benny scoffed.

 

“He treat you well?” Steff asked, working hard to suppress his simmering indignation. 

 

“Sure. In the material sense. He was a typical man everywhere else. I admit it was a surprise being with him after being with you if you catch my dirft. He wasn’t warm or very accommodating and one night when the condom failed...Well. That was that. He didn’t even wait to find out if he’d knocked me up. He just wrote me a check for fifty thousand dollars and pretended he didn’t know me. He was married of course. Two kids of his own. Boys. At the time ages ten and twelve. When you think about it his oldest kid was just seven years younger than me. Eight months later, Alice was born.” Benny shrugged and snorted. “She’s the love of my life and all I care about anymore.”

 

Steff exhaled a long breath, his nicotine craving was so strong it was giving him a headache to ignore it. Steff reached into his pocket and pulled out a box of dinner mints popping two in his mouth.

 

“I fucking hope you kept that son of bitch's check.” Steff muttered for lack of a better response.

 

“You bet your ass I did. That money belongs to Alice. I put it in a fund for her. With any luck, it’ll be the thing that gets her out of Orange someday and then I can at least say her father did something for her.” Benny muttered cooly.

 

“He ever come around at all?” Steff asked already guess the answer.

 

“No. Right after he dumped me, he packed up his family and relocated out east. For business, he told people. I never revealed Alice’s paternity to anyone. For that reason alone my mother cut me off. I’m sure she had a good idea though. I guess I can’t blame her. A fucking crook for a husband and a whore for a daughter…” Benny muttered darkly.

 

“Hey... **_HEY_ ** . Listen to me. **_Fuck them_ ** . Fuck your parents, fuck that fucking asshole. You don’t fucking need any of them or there God damned judgment. People can just mind their own damn business.” Steff muttered, flagging down the waitress to bring him a coke.

 

Benny grunted. Although she wanted to blame Steff Mckee for something the truth was she knew he was completely without fault regarding her life choices. Looking at him, watching his mannerisms, she realized he was actually pretty pissed on her behalf right about now even though he was trying to keep it to himself.

 

“Why’d you disappear on all of us, Steff?” Benny asked after the waitress left.

 

“Self-preservation.” He said simply. “I was a fuck up and I knew it. By the end of senior year, almost no one was speaking to me. And why should they have? I was a fucking asshole addict with too much money and time on my hands. Meanwhile, everyone else was waking up and getting out.”

 

“You OK these days?” Now that they were getting reacquainted, Benny started to soften. She and Steff had been friends after all.

 

“Yeah. Amanda dying was my wakeup call. After that, I checked myself into rehab and got myself sorted out. Tried college but nothing ever really stuck much to my family’s horror. In the meantime, my father introduced me to the Langleys and the Langley’s introduced me to their daughter. It was pretty clear what everyone expected of us.” Steff muttered.

 

“Shit,” Benny remarked, shaking her head. 

 

She’d heard of the Langley family. They were big money developers from the east coast. Benny knew that Steff certainly hadn’t needed to work if he didn’t want to. But it was clear that since Steff had no intention of taking over his father’s work in law or his mother’s in finance that getting married to someone so eligible was the least he could do for the family name.

 

“Yeah, that’s exactly right. A whole lot of grade A bullshit. Chelsea was alright though for a while. She never pushed me into doing anything I didn’t want to do and in return, I stayed out of her personal affairs of which I have no doubt there were many. If we had any obvious problems, in the beginning, it was that we were just a little too alike. Ultimately I stayed sober and she didn’t.” Steff said.

 

“Huh. I guess life turned pear-shaped for a lot of us. Kinda puts things in perspective doesn’t it?” Benny muttered.

 

“Yeah. It does.” Steff agreed.

 

“You said you needed my help with something, Steff. What’s the deal?” Beeny leaned back in her seat and stared at him expectantly.

 

“I’m opening a wine bar over on Craig Street. I’ve got enough cash flow to set it up but one of my investors wants proof I know what I’m doing. The truth is I don’t. At least not where it counts. I’m not much of a people person and although I’d own the business I want to stay mostly out of its management. As I recall your dad was in the restaurant industry before he veered off into real estate. You and your brother Rick grew up in that environment. How well do you still know the industry?” Steff asked. 

 

“Shit. Well enough I could be running a place three times the size of Cappy’s if anyone ever let me. I may have been a shit student in high school but getting a degree in hospitality over at the local community college isn’t exactly rocket science. And I am a certified bartender. Why, Steff? You looking for some staff? I could probably ask around for you. Lots of young hungry things out there.” Benny suggested.

 

“Sure. I could use some recommendations. But what I really need is a restaurant manager. Someone who can run the bar and front of the house. I **_need_ ** someone I can trust, Ben. Would you consider doing it for me?” Steff asked her.

 

“What? Get serious.” Benny snorted.

 

“I  **_am_ ** being serious.” Steff corrected her.

 

The two of them stared each other down for a long time. 

 

“Wow. I mean...I’d have to think about it. What your talking about is a lot of commitment. Especially for a new place that isn’t even set up yet...I mean, what would I do with Alice during the day? I’m already away from her more than I like to be.” Benny mused.

 

Steff squinted at her resistance. Realizing that she might actually turn him down and pretend to be content with here shitty hostess job the rest of her life. He had to do something he realized.    
Steff wanted to see Benny get some of her fire back. The shit she’d experienced hadn’t been fair to her. He knew he had to do something or they’d both hurt in the long run.

 

“OK. How about this.” Steff said slowly.

 

Plucking a napkin off the side of the table caddy, Steff pulled a pen out of his jacket and scribbled something down before folding it once and pressing it across the table top towards her.

 

“This is what I can afford to advance you. Come work for me for six months. We should know by then if the business stands a fighting chance. As for your daughter...I can watch her most days. It’s not like I’ll be running the place and my apartment is above the building so she’d be right there. You could see her anytime you wanted during work hours. Meanwhile Alice can play with Ellie. That’s my daughter. All I’m asking is for you to think about it and get back to me by the end of the weekend.” Steff explained in his fast clipped way.

 

Benny looked from him to the paper. She almost looked afraid to pick it up, but after a minute did just that.

 

Steff inwardly smiled to himself when her eyes went wide as saucers. 

 

“Steff, are you fucking kidding me right now? This is way too much.” She hissed. “If you still need to convince investors, I doubt you can really afford to do this.”

 

“Yeah well, I happen to have some assets squirreled away that didn’t get caught by the divorce lawyers that I can liquidate. It’s fine.” Steff muttered dismissively. “Just go home and think about it. If you still think it’s a raw deal I won't take it personally.:

 

“God, you’re a goddamn bad liar. You will absolutely take it personally if I say no.” Benny said rolling her eyes.

  
“So  **_don’t_ ** say  **_no_ ** and we’ll both be happy.” Steff quipped.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are life.

Chapter 4

 

Steff only lingered long enough with Benny to give her his phone number and walk her to her car. Nothing much more was said between them beyond a light remark to introduce their children sometime. Benny didn't say yes or set a play date but she didn't say no either and Steff took that as a good sign.

 

The advance sum Steff had offered her was indeed generous and not remotely something he had planned for. At this point in his life, Steff was a man of his word. He didn't make promises he didn't intend to keep. It was true that he did have some assets hidden away. It would hurt a little to let go of them, but Steff new he had no choice. It was just one more detail to nip before he could fully breath again.

 

Despite the late hour, Steff didn't go home right away. Instead, he got in his car and took a long excursion around Orange. 

 

In some ways, the landscape had changed drastically, but in other ways, things were remarkably the same. The look of their old high school, the presence of Trax and the old stripe where the young adults still liked to loiter. 

 

Maybe a person really could go home again.

 

Steff didn't return to the apartment until dawn and until he was sufficiently exhausted enough where driving anymore would have been dangerous. During his time out he'd stopped by the gas station and picked up a six pack of Tab, some instant noodles, a couple of cans of soup and a fist full of stick jerky. The new appliances were supposed to come on Thursday.

 

Steff drug himself into the apartment and dropped the grocery bag haphazardly on the floor. The apartment was blissfully cool and the light was just starting to come through the windows giving the space a gentle blue glow.

 

Steff stomped into his bedroom, slowly stripping off his suit as he went. The bed hadn't arrived yet but he didn't give a shit just then. Throwing his clothes into a pile Steff grabbed the sheet, pillow, and light blanket he'd brought in earlier and laid the sheet gently out on the floor. He then laid down on it. Settling onto his back with one arm behind his head and the other down at his side.

 

He hoped that the sleep that eclipsed over him would wipe his troubled subconscious clean. And so it did for a time. Steff Mckee was used to pain. To regret. But for once he felt the benefits of mercy in the form of a blackout kind of sleep that marked the end of the horrors of the last eight months.

 

~@~

 

Philip "Duckie" Dale whined as the bedside phone began to ring for the second time. 

 

Hungover from the night before, Duckie was simultaneously in heaven and Hell. On one hand he was cranky and petulant for being disturbed while still in the grips of a raging headache, but on the other hand waking up reminded Duckie he was presently laying in Andie's bed full of her scent and presence. It was terribly indulgent of him to still enjoy such things as much as he did. But old habits die hard. For Duckie Andie would always be his favorite comfort.

 

Andie wasn't actually there of course. She and Iona had dumped him there while Andie had no doubt slept on her just as comfortable sofa for a few hours before she had to leave to open her store. 

 

As much as Duckie wanted to sleep in. He wanted to spend as much time with Andie as possible.

 

"Yello, you've reached the office of Duckie Dale. Duckie cant come to the phone right now as he is currently too hungover to bother making the attempt." Duckie rattled off.

 

"Wow. That's a shame. I guess somebody doesn't want free breakfast burritos and espresso this morning." Andie muttered through the receiver.

 

"Oh. Well. When you put it that way…" Duckie muttered.

 

"You've got fifteen minutes to shower and change. Iona will meet you outside. And Duckie, leave all my pillows where you found them this time. These belong to a set and they're not cheap. If you really insist on being a pervert why can't you just take one of my t-shirts or something?" Andie muttered.

.

"Excuse me, I resent the implications of your accusations," Duckie replied flippantly. "But, huh, incidentally if a t-shirt of yours were to go missing, which one would you miss the least?"

 

Duckie grinned with satisfaction when he practically heard Andie roll her eyes and grin through the phone. He could always sense her reactions. Most of his come-ons at this stage in their lives were a genuine joke between them. Duckie Dale would always love Andie Walsh, but he understood by now that their relationship was better expressed platonically.

 

Besides, Duckie wasn't exactly hard up for feminine attention. Danielle Annette Kristy, former Miss California and now spokeswoman extraordinaire still kept in touch with him and the two were loosely dating long distance. Iona also openly drooled over him without actually crossing any lines which always made him feel good. All in all, Duckie Dale was living the dream and loving every second of it.

 

Despite his hangover he did hang up with Andie and quickly rise.

 

True to Andie’s word, Iona was waiting outside in here pick up and in no time they were all three situated in Think Pink enjoying complimentary espresso and breakfast. Although they hung out plenty the night before, Cats had been too loud for a more serious conversation.

 

Since neither Andie nor Iona was doing anything out of the ordinary, their conversation inevitably drifted to the goings ons of the surrounding neighborhood. The developments on Craig Street were of specific mention.

 

“Do we know what’s going in on Craig?” Duckie asked wrinkling his nose when he caught up with who had moved into the apartment above the shops.

 

“I have no idea. I guess I just assume Steff Mcgee would rent out the lower space to other people.” Andie admitted.

 

“I dunno. I’ve been asking around and from what I hear tell he bought up the whole building. Seems to me he’s doing something specific with it.” Iona offered.

 

“I still can’t picture it,” Andie muttered, before taking a long sip from her cup.

 

“Well, what kind of kid he was in high school. Maybe we can guess?” Iona asked.

 

“Steff Mcgee was a jerk in high school. A rich, entitled, popular jerk.” Andie recollected.

 

“Yeah but so are a lot of kids at that age. What kind of stuff was he into? Even rich kids have hobbies.” Iona pressed.

 

Andie and Duckie exchanged quizzical looks with each other. For the most part, neither of them had any classes with him. Not in any of the years they’d attended high school. The only exception Andie could think of was her AP Lit class senior year and even then all she remembered about Steff was how he always sat in the back corner and never talked. The few times Andie had cause to look back at him she’d caught him engrossed in a book utterly ignoring just about everyone in the room.

 

“He liked music. He and his posse used to hang out in Cats all the time.” Duckie muttered unexpectedly. “I think he used to go early. I mean he was always there whenever we were. I never saw him arrive or leave so I assume he got there before we did and left late most of the time.” Duckie knew because as teenagers he almost never got into Cats and instead usually ended up sitting at the door with Drew waiting for Andie to come out. This put him in the unique position of knowing who came and went.

 

“I went to one of his parties once. Senior year. Blane took me. It was what you’d expect. Music, drugs, sex and booze. God, I’ll never forget that party. Blane and I ran into him and Benny in one of the bedrooms. I think it was one of the few times I saw him semi-sober.” Andie related.

 

“What? You never told me about that?” Duckie protested.

 

“It wasn’t like there was much to tell. We were clearly interrupting. I didn’t want to be there. Nobody wanted me there.” As Andie thought about it she recalled how Steff had initially seemed surprised and then pretended not to know here.

 

Ii had been insulting and typical of him at the time but, unlike Benny, Steff hadn’t exactly been mean to her and when Benny and Blane had begun to mince words over Andie’s presence she recalled how Steff had subtly intervened and tried to redirect them. Looking back it occurred to her suddenly that he’d almost seemed embarrassed by the behavior of the other two and although there had been a drink by the bed Andie was convinced that he had been mostly sober that night. Technically Steff hadn’t seemed to be sober at all that year.

 

“So...He seems intelligent and creative…” Iona observed.

 

Both Andie and Duckie snorted at this.

“Hey, I tried. Suit yourselves.” Iona said dismissively.

 

"Well if it's the whole lower level being developed maybe it's going to be a restaurant. " Andie suggested.

 

Truthfully, she half hoped it would be. Regardless of the owner, it might turn out to be nice to have a place to eat of reasonable quality and hype practically down the street from her. Andie was all for ambitious new enterprises.

 

“What do you think he’s like now?” Duckie wondered. “I mean he was a pretty big asshole when we were younger. But that’s not really saying much. Lots of people were jerks in high school.”

 

Duckie thought about how he’d caught a glimpse of Steff in Cats last night. It was bizarre how little the man had visibly changed. He was still gaunt and surly looking. Some might have called him handsome in an almost feminine way with his thin papery lips and well defined upper lip cleft. Steff was a master of the blank stare. Last night though when he’d watched Steff come out of the back room with Drew he saw all kinds of strange emotions cross the man’s face.

 

“Rich.” Both Iona and Andie replied in unison.

 

In terms of sheer capital dominance, the Mckee’s were the wealthiest legacy family within their graduating class. Maybe even among the entire school population of that year. Even in the worst of cases, there was no way that Steff had escaped an opulent and indulgent upbringing.

 

“OK. Fair possibility.” Duckie conceded. “Isn’t it kind of weird though that he chose to move into one of the building’s apartments. I mean?” I’m sure that building cost a pretty penny but those apartments have to be average at best.

 

“Maybe he’s slumming it.” Iona offered.

 

“Steff Mckee isn’t the type to go slumming,” Andie muttered between bites of her breakfast burrito.

 

“OK...Maybe he’s broke. He did just get divorced, didn’t he?” Iona speculated.

 

“If he’s broke than he’s the richest broke dude I’ve ever seen to be able to by that building,” Duckie muttered.

 

“That’s not necessarily true when I acquired Trax I didn’t have a penny to my name. There’s lot’s of ways to get your hands on capital of you’re willing to do the leg work. Maybe the guy is trying to start over.” Iona suggested.

 

Her opinion did not seem to be a popular one.

 

“Rich or poor I’ll be curious to see what happens on Craig Street. If it’s something good it may up the traffic in the store. I certainly won’t scoff at a boost in revenue.” Andie Admitted.

 

“Everything’s going OK though, isn’t it?” Duckie asked suddenly concerned.

“Well...Yeah. I mean things around here are fine. Great even. The shop’s a success by all basic definitions. I love my life. But honestly it’s all just me. You know? I don’t know. I’d like to maybe hire more staff. Maybe find a bigger studio space to work in. You know the back room here is pitiful. I’m just saying I think I could do more. I think the store could be more than it currently is. Is that stupid?” Andie questioned.

 

“Absolutely not,” Iona reassured her. “You’ve defied countless odds and made it all look easy to do. Why shouldn’t you aspire to more?”

 

“You know what I think you need? Some hot love’n.” Duckie said brazenly.

 

“Oh my god. Why are you even saying things like that?” Andie cried, covering her face briefly. 

 

“Don’t be a prude. I just mean maybe you need to put yourself out there more. The store is doing great. You’ve said so yourself. What about Andie? What’s success good for if you can’t enjoy a simple date or a good lay on a saturday night?” Duckie insisted.

 

“I'm not interested in all that stuff.” Andie muttered. 

 

“You used to be.” Duckie countered. “Don’t you think it’s time to try again?”

 

“Nope.” Andie chripped.

 

“Fiiine.” Duckie knew when not to push Andie. 

 

If there was one area in her life outside of the topic of her mother that she rarely discussed it was her romantic life. Andie’s only notable relationship had been with Blane. Her one and only high school romance that lasted all but five minutes. After making a complete ass of himself, Blane had managed to win Andie’s affections back for a short time, but the foundational problems in their coupling had never completely gone away despite all the fevered promises and declarations Blane had made. In the end he’d done what everyone had expected of him. He’d left the state for college and ultimately joined his father’s construction empire. Neither Andie or Blane had aspired to keep in touch.

 

The problem was that Duckie greatly suspected Blane had been the only one to ever secure a chance with Andie and even then she’d always been intensely tight-lipped about the particulars of their relationship. Duckie worried about Andie sometimes. He worried that she intentionally put herself away so that others never got the opportunity to enjoy her.

 

Eventually, Iona left to go open Trax while Andie went about running her store, working on her projects and entertaining Duckie all day.

 

By the evening, though even Duckie begged off, never quite having recovered from the hangover from earlier that morning. At around a quarter to eight, he departed. Tomorrow would be a workday as he rounded up the Duckettes and went over their upcoming travel plans.

 

As was usual Andie stayed late at the store working well into the evening. She was so engrossed in what she was doing that she failed to notice that the heavy rain that had been a downpour on orange all weekend had resumed. When it was finally time for Andie to make her way home, the rain was coming down in thick heavy sheets. It was a true blue storm it seemed.

 

“Shit.” Andie muttered as she saw what she was in for.

 

Andie dug around the back room looking for anything that remotely resembled a rain slicker. As luck would have it there was a vintage grape colored one of iffy proofing in one of her discard bins. Damn it. Something was better than nothing she supposed. Her old Volkswagen Karmann Ghia was still in operation and presently parked a few yards from the main store entrance. It had been practically mint when Andie had inherited  it from her mother save for a few large dents in the body. It was one of the many things the odd woman had left behind when she’d walked out on them all those years ago. Andie, of course, had replaced alot of its internal works over the years but the body and interior where 100% original to the car.

 

“God I really don’t want to go out there.” She muttered to herself as she finished locking down the store.

 

Biting her lip in uncertainty Andie waited to see if the unrelenting rain would let up after a while. But it didn’t. She would have to brave the elements and just go out there. Pulling on her slicker and covering her hair with a discarded plastic bag and gripped her keys, took a deep breath, and forced her way into the roaring night. The rain outside was cold and drenching and although the slicker provided some protection it simply wasn’t strong enough material to keep her dry.

 

Cursing Andie struggled to lock up her shop and then quickly skittered to her car. It was practically blackout with only one distant and hazy street lamp and the neon of the shop lights beside her own to light her way. It was still early spring so even without the rain it wasn’t exactly warm. Within seconds Andie was hovering at her car door and fumbling with her keys and she tried to discern the right one and unlock her car. Just as she was preparing to slide the correct key home, her hand slipped causing her to jam her fingers painfully into the metal door.

 

Andie cursed loudly and stuck her affronted knuckles into her mouth. And as she sucked on them in time to the pulsing pain the unthinkable happened. Andie dropped her keys and as they hit the asfalt the power of running water helped them along right into the nearby sewer grate.

“SHIT. Shit, shit, shit!” Andie cursed in a huffy manner as she dumbly dropped to her knees and tried to reach down between the bars of the grate to find her keys. She was practically blind in the rain though and seconds into her search it was obvious she was in serious trouble. Out of sheer panic, Andie raced back to her shop front to stand under the flimsy awning as she tried to figure out what to do. It had to be nearly eleven o’clock. Everyone else on the streets had already gone home by now. 

 

Shivering Andie looked around wildly knowing she needed help. For a second she thought about miserably walking down the block until she found the nearest building that had people, but a sudden streak of lightning followed by a chest gyrating boom of thunder shook her to her core and caused Andie to let out an involuntary scream.

 

Terrified almost out of her witts Andie squinted through the rain up and down the main street. The only other strong light she saw came from an upper story of a distant building. Craig Street was much better maintained then her own and Andie could see a soft warm light glowing from an upstairs bay window of an apartment on the corner of the street.

 

“God, please let someone be up there.” Andie murmured as she gathered her strength and setting her sights solely on the window in the stance, began to jog towards it.

 

By the time she got to the corner storefront on Craig Street and was soaked to the bone. There was a small foyer along the side of the building leading to a single stairwell that went up to the second floor. To Andie’s outrage, the door leading into the foyer was locked but the clasp seemed weak. For a good three minutes, Andie beat on the wood frame yelling for someone to help her. But to no avail.

 

Finally panicking to a debilitating degree Andie began to cry as she crumpled down in front of the door and sobbed as the lightning, thunder, and rain raged around her.

 

By now she had no further strength to move.

 

God damn it!

 

Couldn’t anyone hear her?


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

  
  


Steff Mckee was in such a deep repose that he’d literally slept through the entire day and may have gone on to sleep through the entire night in spite of the raging storm had the sound of rapt pounding on the downstairs foyer door not startled him into wakefulness.

 

“What the actual fuck?” He muttered aloud.

 

After a few seconds, the pounding came again. This time, Steff thought he vaguely heard someone crying for help in between the sounds of pounding and as the thunder clapped and someone outside screamed, Steff hastily pulled on his pants and shoes and scurried out of the apartment to find out what the Hell was going on.

 

In spite of the pounding rain as he neared the bottom of the stairs, Steff could hear someone crying at the base of the foyer door. With his heart pounding Steff undid the locks and jerked open the door to find an absolutely sobbing and bedraggled woman huddled on the ground.

 

For a long second Steff just stared at the figure. The motion sensor light clearly illuminating her form even through the rain. Steff could hardly believe who he saw.

 

“Andie?” 

 

His voice fluttered as he said her name on an exhale. But before she could respond, before she could even think, Steff had disappeared only to reappear seconds later with a blanket. 

 

“Andie, I want to pick you up. I know you're scared but I want you to help me. I’m going to wrap you in this blanket and I want you to wrap your arms around my neck and hold still. Do I make myself clear?” Steff’s tone was authoritative and pressing but not threatening. He was clearly deeply alarmed.

 

Andie barely nodded numb and still sobbing as he bent down to capture her in a blanket still warm from his own body heat as he carefully lifted her into his lap and then stood up pulling her back over the threshold and finally out of the rain. 

 

For her part, Andie simply buried her face in Steff’s neck like a scared child and continued to sob as she clung to him.

 

With deep concentration, Steff carefully carried her up the steps and into the apartment.

 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry there’s nothing here. Nothings arrived yet.” Steff muttered manically. “Huh, look, I’m going to bring you into the bathroom and run a hot bath. You’re freezing. Can you tell me what happened?  **_Andie?_ ** Are you hurt?” 

 

Andie shook her head slightly from side to side swallowing as she tried to regain some control. 

 

“I...I, um, dropped my keys by my car...And...They went down the sewer grate. I couldn’t see them. I..”

 

“Where’s your car?” Steff said patiently as he set her down on the edge of the bath and gripped her wrists together with one hand rubbing at the base of her thumbs with is own while he began to run the water.

 

“Its...Um...Its outside in front of my shop Think Pink. Down the street from here.” She explained in a broken tone.

 

“OK. I want you to stay here. I’m going to leave for a few minutes but I  **_promise_ ** I will come back. You keep this blanket around you until the water fills and then you slip into this bath. You can do it fully clothed for all I care, but I need to get you warm. Can you do that?” He demanded.

 

Andie nodded and coughed.

 

“What are you going to do?” She asked it was hard to tell if Andie even knew who she was speaking to.

 

“Me? I’m going to go get your goddamn keys.” Steff said determinedly. 

 

A minute later dressed only in his suit pants and shoes, Steff was outside rummaging in his trunk. From it he pulled out a flashlight and a coat hanger, then after slamming the trunk shut he climbed into his driver's seat and took off down the street.

 

In the meantime Andie did as she was told. Stripping gingerly down to just her bra and panties she abandoned her clothes and turned off the faucet before carefully climbing into the almost scalding water. Breathing deeply she aspired to calm down but just as she started to feel grounded something tweaked in her and she began to cry again, this time much more subdued.

 

Thirty minutes later, the sound of someone slamming shut the door and throwing a set of jingling keys on the counter could be heard along with the sound of a box scraping along the counter.

 

“Andie, I’m back. I scrounged up some clothes for you to change into.” After that, he came to the bathroom door and knocked, but didn’t try the handle. “Are you alright in there?”

 

Andie sniffled and, after swallowing, muttered a confirming, “Yeah.”

 

_ Christ, she’s crying.  _ Steff realized. 

 

“Look, is there someone I can call for you? Your dad, maybe? Or one of your friends? It’s just...I don’t have anything here...They could maybe help you more than I could.” Steff said through the door.

“I...Um. No. I really just need a few minutes to myself thanks. I’m sorry for causing you any trouble.”

 

“Sure. Alright.” Steff sighed, looking about aimlessly. 

 

Now he was soaked as well, still trying to get over his own alarm, and shivering.

 

Plucking up the sheet he’d been sleeping on, Steff wrapped it around his exposed upper body and, taking a few cans of Tab and some of his stick jerky, he then slid down the wall next to the bathroom door to listen and wait.

 

After a while, there was a gentle splashing sound and eventually, the bathroom door creaked open only a little bit. "Could I get those clothes from you, please?"

 

Her voice was meek.

 

"Yeah. Hold on." Getting back up Steff went to the counter and rummaged through the box he'd brought in with him. Out of it, he pulled a Ramones t-shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants. 

 

When he returned to the door Andie snaked her arm through the opening and took them. A few minutes later Andie emerged from the bathroom wearing his clothes with the blanket wrapped about her. 

 

Meanwhile, Steff had backed up into the living room. His suit pants clung to him uncomfortably and he was cold as Hell but he wanted to give Andie a wide breadth. This was not how he had ever expected to meet her again.

 

Andie watched him over the edge of the blanket currently bundled up along her face. Steff Mckee was unmistakable. Even with so many years between them. He looked exactly the same as he had in high school only with slightly shorter hair and more muscle tone. Unlike Steff who was presently looking down and away, Andie was looking directly at him.

 

She swore he was actively trying to avoid her gaze. Like it stung him to be stared at.

 

"Steff Mckee. Gods, it really is you. Isn't it?" She mused almost disbelievingly.

 

"Yeup. It's me all right. Andie, why don't you settle down somewhere. I'm just going to pop into the bedroom for a second. Sorry.  **_Wet_ ** ." He rambled. 

 

Once Steff excused himself and shut the bedroom door behind him he began to pace and manically run his fingers through his wet hair. Steff had no idea what to say or do in this situation. Steff hadn’t thought about Andie Walsh in years. Certainly not since he’d fallen out with all his closest friends and left Orange.

 

But seeing her now under the present circumstances was unnerving. Until now Steff had intended on avoiding Andie Walsh and her friends at all costs. At least, he had intended to avoid them until he found the courage to confront some of the unsavory memories he had, most involving Andie specifically.

 

Steff tried to breathe deep. He could feel a panic attack mounting and he absolutely wasn't about to let Andie Walsh witness him like that especially when she was having a less than steady night herself. In moments like this Steff was now trained to stop. To slow down. To focus on what he felt, identify the feelings and then let them go. In doing this exercise, Steff realized he felt embarrassed and he didn’t know why.

 

_ You know why. Think about it, stupid. _

 

Steff realized the problem was that he could no longer hide from Andie as he had constantly when they were young. Had she wound up on his doorstep when he was fully prepared, when his new life had been established and his reputation more solid, Steff might have been able to slip on a version of the indifferent mask he’d always presented in her presence and then be able to confidently ease into a renewal of their acquaintance. But as things currently stood there was no time to craft that kind of illusion.

 

Angry with himself for feeling so lost and like an idiot, Steff peeled off his wet pants and briefs wincing slightly as he noticed specs of blood around his knees. In an effort to find Andie’s keys Steff had scraped up his legs pawing along the asphalt. The abrasions on his knees and the base of his palms were annoying but mostly superficial.  Steff rubbed at his wrists anyway pulling on a pair of cargo pants and a deep blue sweater over his head. He then forced himself to take a few more deep breaths before he had to go back out there.

 

"You can handle this.  _ Just be cool _ ." He demanded of himself. 

 

When he did slip back into the barren living room he saw that Andie had settled on the carpet still huddled in the blanket. Crossing her he went back to his place against the wall  and settled on the floor again a respectful distance from her.

 

“I think you should have a soda.” He remarked, offering her a can of Tab. “I’d offer coffee but this is the best I can do for now.”

 

_ For now. _

 

Andie eyed him speculatively and took the can from him.

 

“So about calling someone. The phone line here isn’t installed yet but if you give me the number you want to reach I can go over to your shop and get ahold of someone from there for you. The rain is still pretty heavy out there. I swear I nearly got struck by lightning rooting around with that coat hanger. Your keys are on the counter. If you don’t want to call someone I can also take you somewhere. To them or to your home.” He offered.

 

“Thanks but I’m not going to make you drive in that monsoon out there,” Andie muttered. “You can only have so many sets of dry clothes, after all.”

 

“That’s true. Very true. But really it’s no bother. You’re of course welcome to hang here until everything settles down. I don’t have much but…” Steff shrugged dismissively waving his hand in such a way to imply she was welcome to whatever he did have handy.

 

“I’m so embarrassed. I feel like an idiot.” Andie muttered blowing out an exasperated huff of air between her lips. “You must think I’m an utter psycho or something.”

 

“Dramatic much? It’s storming. You got caught out in it. I was the closest avenue of help you had.” He justified for her.

 

“It's not that...It’s just…" Andie stress.

 

"It's just  **_what_ ** ?" Steff asked.

 

"I wanted to run into you under better circumstances." She diplomatically said.

 

Steff scoffed. "Yeah. You mean if you **_were_** to run into me you wanted to be able to stand tall. Put me in my place. Show me you'd done well. I get it. I suppose I deserve that kind of response from you."

 

There was no malice in his tone. In fact, Steff almost seemed amused at the prospect of Andie feeling slighted enough by the past to warrant posturing for his benefit.

 

"For what it's worth I'm sorry I was a spiteful asshole in high school." He murmured. 

 

Steff was apologizing for himself. Andie had never heard Steff Mckee apologize to anyone for anything. Though he was absolutely calm there was a subdued restlessness to his presence that reminded Andie of a resting tiger she'd once seen at the Los Angeles Zoo. Steff had always been an intense kind of person despite his efforts to always come off unaffected and nonchalant all the time.

 

"It was high school. Everyone was an asshole to somebody." She observed. 

 

"You always seemed pretty nice to most people. I mean, you were never nice to me but…" steff shrugged and made a hand gesture that basically said something along the lines of her attitude towards him being deserved, even provoked.

 

"There were definitely people in high school who didn't like me." Andie remarked opening the can with a popping sound.

 

"Oh yeah? Like who?" Steff was legitimately curious.

 

"Like your old girlfriend for one. Benny hated me. She was mean to me, mean to my friends and I never really knew why." Andie admitted.

 

"First of all, Benny didn't know you. Secondly, most of her shit in high school wasn't personal. Benny Hanson was a first class snob when we were kids and it was rare that anyone or anything ever really met her approval. So forget about her." He muttered.

 

What Steff was really saying was that Andie wasn't special. If Benny Hanson had picked on her or anyone Andie knew it had been purely because they happened to be in visible range.

 

For some reason, the thought of being so generically targeted, hurt her feelings a little.

 

'Yeah? Well maybe I was a nobody back then and maybe that made me an easier target for some people, but it still hurt my feelings to be shit on sometimes. To see my friends get shit on just because people could. Just because we were charity cases. Seems to me like having all that wealth, social status, and opportunity didn’t serve to actually elevate many people in this town." She pointed out.

 

Steff looked caught off guard by Andie's speech. Clearly, he'd worried a nerve in her. 

 

_ You were never a nobody, Andie. Not to me. I watched you all through high school, liked you all through it and you never once noticed me. If you had, maybe we'd all be better off by now.  _

 

"I'll take your word for it. You seem to have kept up with people a lot better than I have. Speaking of people we mutually know. Whatever happened with you and Blane? That fiasco last long? I heard he made a pretty good speech at prom but later in the summer I stopped seeing you guys together."

 

"Interesting you know that since I don't remember seeing you that summer at all. As for Blane, I'd rather not talk about him if you don't mind.”

  
  


As always where anyone else reacted to the barbed ends of Steff's probings, Andy show'd no retaliatory reaction against him for bringing up an unwanted topic. This behavior, the seeming density Andie possessed regarding Steff's often pointed remarks and jagged perspectives had set her apart from everyone else in his life. While she certainly wasn't above being offended by him, he rarely saw anything he said to her get under her skin.

 

_ That dick. He must of broken up with her over the summering after graduation. Why the fuck did you even bother getting back with her you shit? _

 

"OK. Forget I asked." He casually said.

 

As he spoke a big boom of thunder sounded, the lights flickered, and the sirens began to blaze.

 

Andie visibly jumped and pressed her fingers to her temples. "Oh God, that's not a tornado siren, is it?"

 

"No. It's just the severe weather sirens." Steff assured her.

 

Steff recalled how he'd found her. She'd been huddled in a crouching ball with her arms cradling her head like someone preparing for a bomb to go off. She'd been crying. No doubt overwhelmed by the heavy blinding rain. Steff realized then that Andie Walsh was afraid of storms. He also wondered more for his own benefit why she'd appeared at his particular doorstep. Had it been because his apartment was the only avenue of human activity? Or had Andie known he lived there?

 

Steff realized he wanted to believe she knew he was there and had sought him out specifically for help. But he also knew this to be an indulgent fantasy.

 

"This building has a storage basement that's underground. It's pretty well maintained. Nothing scary to stand around in. If the storm is stressing you out we can go hang out down there.” Steff suggested.

 

“Really? I mean. I’m not afraid of rain just thunder and lightning sometimes.” Andie corrected him.

 

_ Yeah. That means your afraid of storms. _

 

Steff sighed. “Come on. Let’s go on a little tour.”

 

Steff got up and closed the space between them reaching out his hand to help her up off the floor. When Andie gripped it she saw Steff wince as he pulled her up to a standing position.

 

“You hurt your hand.” She remarked.

 

“It’s only a few scrapes, Princess. Don’t worry about it.” Steff said dismissively letting her go. 

 

Grabbing his own keys from the counter, steff tossed Andie hers and opened the apartment door for them. 

 

Steff’s residence was above the corner establishment but the entire building covered the span of four spacious shop fronts. Along with Steff’s apartment, there was another apartment on the other end and elongated gallery space in between.

 

“Do you own this whole building?” Andie asked as he led her down a long corridor to a service elevator.

 

“That’s right. The whole kit and kaboodle. For now anyway.” Steff neglected to mention that he’d recently just sunk the remainder of his net worth into the property and that if things didn’t go well in the next year he would have no choice but to give it up.

 

The service elevator was old and reliable but before it jolted to life Steff was careful to step up beside Andie and lightly grip her elbow so that she wouldn’t falter from the often surprising lurch of movement.

 

“Sorry this thing can have a little kick to it.” He explained.

 

Andie glanced from Steff to her elbow and back again but didn’t say anything. One the elevator began to steadily move he moved away from her.

 

Although the basement floors were concrete the walls were mostly finished and kept web and wetness free. Clearly, the building had been very well maintained and now Andie had a better idea of why the rent had historically been so high. The building had to have been utterly expensive to buy she could hardly imagine what it took to maintain. 

 

As promised the basement was large and fully enclosed spanning about half the length of the shopfronts. The back farthest area housed the utility room for the complex, the rest was neatly set up storage. There were several boxes and discarded items.

 

“Sorry. It’s still a bit disorganized down here. Anything any of the old tenants didn’t want they stuck down here. I haven't had a chance to look through most of it. But if you see anything you like your welcome to it.” Steff offered.

 

There was a fair amount of old furniture, a few large appliances, a bicycle, several trunks in various states of repair and long sturdy workman table. 

 

“Wait here a second,” Steff muttered.

 

He then disappeared into the utility room.

 

A few minutes later he emerged with a small box of emergency candles.

 

“Better safe than sorry. If the lights do go out it might prove to be pretty dark down here. Is this better for you? More comfortable?” He asked.

 

“Yeah. Thanks Steff. I appreciate the consideration.” Andie said sincerely as she adjusted the blanket she’d brought with her around her shoulders.

 

“No problem. Well? Since we have some time to kill. What do you want to do?” He inquired.

 

As Steff began to light candles and set them out on the large rectangular wooden table Andie began to look around. She had to admit some of the stuff in the basement was pretty fascinating alot of it wasn’t exactly garbage either.

 

“You know you could probably sell a lot of this stuff.” She remarked.

 

“Yeah. Maybe later. I’m on a bit of a time crunch at the moment. My priorities don’t currently include a rummage sale.” Steff quipped.

 

Andi continued to look around poking through the free-standing shelves. She was tempted to open a few of the nicer looking trunks but figured it might be rude of her to snoop around too much. Eventually though something caught her eye.

 

“Oh my god. I can’t believe it.” She muttered. “Steff, look what I found. I think it’s an original.”

 

Standing up on her tiptoes, Andie pulled down a rectangular box and turned it to show him.

 

“Is that Mystery Date?” Steff said squinting at the box.

 

“Yeah. Do you want to play? We have to play it.” When she saw the bewildered expression on Steff’s face she laughed and pressed him some more. “Come on, you big baby. It’ll be fun. Play it with me.”

 

Steff rubbed at his face but after noticing how excited Andie was at her discovery he couldn’t help but smile a little and relent. 

 

“Alright, but just once.” He conceded.

 

“Really? Yes! This is going to be great. Go grab some chairs and I’ll set it up at the table.” She said gleefully.

Fifteen minutes later Steff and Andie were sitting at the rectangular table with a vintage Mystery Date board set up in front of them.

 

“Explain,” Steff muttered.

 

“OK. So the object of the game is to collect all the needed items to go on a specific kind of date. Of course one of them is a formal dance but there’s also the bowling date, the beach date, and the skiing date.” Andie explained.

 

“How very 1950’s of Milton Bradley,” Steff said.

 

“Actually Mystery Date came out in the mid-sixties.” Andie corrected him.

 

“Oh well, that’s so much better. Sure.” Steff joked.

 

“Would you shut up and let me go on, please? Now along with collecting the three items you need for a specific date you also have to pick the right partner. That’s what the door in the middle is for. In order to win, you have to have all three items and meet up with the right corresponding date. You follow me?” Andie asked.

 

“Loud and clear. Who goes first?” Steff asked.

 

“High roll goes first.” Andie took up the single die and rolling it between her fingers she then let it drop. “Four.”

 

“Six. How many cards do we start off with?” Steff said after rolling the winning number.

 

“Two,” Andie said. “No one is allowed to hold more than six cards in their hand. OK, ready? Go ahead.”

 

It was fascinating to see how excited Andie was to play the board game. In this moment they might as well have been kids again, playing together at a sleepover. Even when Steff was a kid he’d never really done these kinds of things with his friends, save for Blane who had always been more shy and introverted as a child. It made Steff wonder what it would have been like to have been Andie’s friend for real.

 

After several times around the board, Steff had settled on the Ski date as his goal. Overall, he was making good headway with his cards. His set was complete and now all he needed to do was land on the Open Door block and get the right date to win. This proved to be harder than he anticipated.

 

Between them, both landed on the door black two or three times without success. On Steff’s third time when he spun the doorknob and opened it, he was met with the Nerd.

“Ha. Alright. Now you have to discard your whole hand.” Andie proclaimed.

 

“Excuse me?” Steff incredulously stammered.

 

“You got the Nerd. You have to discard your whole hand and start over. Those are the rules.” Andie insisted.

 

“Savage. These girly board games don’t fuck around.” Steff said scowling.

 

“Oh you think this is ruthless? Try playing Pretty Pretty Princess sometime. The black ring in that game is devastating.” Andie quipped.

 

_ You’re pretty devastating. Jesus. Where you always this goddamn precious about shit? _

 

On the next turn around the board, Andie successfully collected her remaining items and landed on the door box. To her delight, her mystery date turned out to be a fellow in a tuxedo holding flowers. Apparently, Andie had been collecting for the formal dance date.

 

“Well looks like I won. Want to try your luck again?” Andie inquired.

 

“No sorry my fragile ego can only handle so much failure. Well? What do you think? Want to call this slumber party? It's probably safe for you to go home now." Steff said.

 

"Isn't it still raining?" Andie asked.

 

"No. It stopped about thirty minutes ago. You're safe now." Steff remarked.

 

Andie hadn't noticed the sounds of the storm had died down above them. She'd been too caught up in her exchanges with Steff that she's lost all sense of what else was going on. 

 

As he spoke Andie found herself wondering at Steff's choice of words. Who or what was she safe from? The storm or Steff Mckee? 

 

“Yeah. I guess. I mean if you think it’s done.” Andie conceded quietly. “What time do you think it is?”

 

Steff glanced at his watch. “About four in the morning.”

 

“Jesus,” Andie muttered. “I had no idea. I must have kept you up.”

 

“No. I was more than rested when you showed up.” Steff corrected. “It’s no problem.”

 

“Oh.” Was all she could think to say.

“Well don’t sound too disappointed for not inconveniencing me. I am walking away from this encounter with scraped knees and hands and a sorry loss of clean clothes.” He muttered. “Come on. I’ll walk you out.”

 

“I’ll kindly take my blanket back please if you don’t mind. It’s the only one I have at the moment.” Steff said when they arrived back upstairs only to walk one flight back down to hover at the back door Steff had found her at.

 

“Steff…” Andie said at length. “Thanks for saving me today. I really really appreciate everything you did. It was totally above and beyond.”

 

“Sure, Andie. Don’t mention it.” Steff said as he leaned into the alcove wall.

 

Andie knew she should leave. She had no reason to stay. She and Steff weren't friends or even acquaintances at this point. But something about him sitting around in the empty apartment bothered her. It didn't seem right. It seemed lonely and sullen. Empty.

 

“Hey, Steff.” Andie muttered after another few beats. “If you see me while you’re out and about in the future, don’t feel like you have to be a stranger about it. The past is the past. This isn’t high school anymore.”

 

“No, it’s not.” Steff agreed. “Goodnight, Andie. Try to be careful out there.” That was it. That was all Steff said.

 

Andie noted his noncommittal attitude and did her best to accept it. Steff hadn’t exactly accepted her olive branch but at least he hadn’t entirely rejected it either. Andie genuinely hoped she would see him again out in Orange. If only to show him that she meant what she said.

 

“Right. Goodnight.” Andie took a deep breath and, palming her keys, she left him.

 

Steff remained in the main foyer watching her through the door as she scurried off down the street to her pink car and got in. It was only after she started the engine and disappeared that Steff let out the breath he was holding and collapsed weakly upon the lower steps of the stairwell.

 

“What the Hell, Steff Mckee. What the Hell do you think you're doing?” He asked himself rhetorically. 


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

 

Although Andie always closed Think Pink on Wednesdays, she was particularly eager this day to not have the responsibilities of the shop get in the way of her mental processing.

 

Andie had gone directly home from Steff's apartment and gone straight to bed. It wasn't until nearly one in the afternoon when she'd awoken again.

 

When she woke up, she remained in her bed thinking about things.

 

The events of last night seemed like a surreal kind of dream. But Andie knew it had happened because she was still wearing steff's clothes and every now and again she caught the masculine scent of him in her nose. Sandalwood and chamomile.

 

It was not an unpleasant smell, she had to admit.

 

Andie might have stayed in bed ruminating longer about her work adjacent neighbor but the phone rang interrupting her dreamy thoughts.

 

"Hey kiddo, you OK today?" Iona's voice came through the receiver.

 

"Oh, shit. I'm sorry. I promised to come over this morning and forgot. Yeah, I'm OK. I think. I dunno something weird happened last night and I'm not really sure how I feel about it."  Andie muttered vaguely.

 

"Well, girl you better get over here and dish. There are only two unusual things that happen late at night. Muggings and romance. I'm going to assume in this case it's the latter but if it's the former cough twice and I'll dial 911." Iona quipped.

 

"It was definitely not a mugging," Andie muttered as she draped her arm over her eyes and stretched. "I'll tell you all about it when I get there. OK. Bye."

 

Half an hour later, Andie was sequestered with Iona in her back room so they could talk in private.

 

"Wait, wait. I want to make sure I get this pictured right. The rain is beating down on you. The sky is so electric it's like the 4th of July, and just when you think all is _lost_ the door in front of you is thrown open and the shirtless Steff cradles you to his bosom and carries you off to his lair." Iona mused in theatrical abandon.

 

Andie laughed and turned bright pink. "I think you're going a bit overboard. You make it sound like the tagline of some two cent romance novel. It wasn't nearly as cliche as all that."

 

"Oh, Honey! If this _were_ a romance novel and you two were even remotely better acquainted then you are, when he got you up in that apartment of his there would have been a whole different kind of lightening show going on. So tell me. On a scale of one to ten. How hot are we really talking here? You can protest all you want but you’re just as red-blooded as any of us and _I know_ you noticed. So **spill**.” Iona pointed a wayward drumstick at her.

 

“God...I dunno. What are we basing it on?” Andy asked.

 

“Let’s go 90’s heartthrobs. Now, go. Paint me a picture here.” Iona coaxed.

 

“I don’t know. He’s like...He’s like...Luke Perry meets Alec Baldwin.” Andie blurted, trying to pinpoint a frame of reference Iona would be satisfied with.

 

“So like on one hand thin and boyish, but on the other hand intense and broody. Now the bod. Come on, spit it out...I need details. I’m an old woman and it helps keep me young.” Iona pressed.

 

“Considering he managed to carry me up an entire flight of stairs while I was dripping wet and hysterical...He’s solid.” Andi admitted.

 

“Holy toledo…I bet he looks great in a suit. And better out of one.” Iona got a dreamy expression on her face that made Andie roll her eyes.

 

“Steff was always good looking by most people's standards. It was his personality that rubbed people wrong.” Andie pointed out.

 

“So? Is he still a prickly pear or has life smoothed him out a bit?” Iona asked.

 

“I don’t know. Obviously, I scared the crap out of him. When he finally got me upstairs he seemed anxious. He kept apologizing to me. You know like people do when they aren't prepared and someone shows up on them? He seemed to genuinely care. I mean that’s certainly different. In high school, Steff always came off unaffected like nothing could touch him, like nothing mattered to him. The rest of the time it was like he was angry about his life, but never let it out.” Andie observed.

 

“When he found out what had happened he just handled it. He marched right out into the night and got my keys back. He offered me what he had and kept trying to get me to call people. The thing about it is that I didn’t feel like he was trying to brush me off or dismiss me. He just wanted to take care of me and seemed embarrassed that he couldn't offer more.” Andie said.

 

“Sounds pretty nice, all things considered.” Iona gently said. “Kinda makes you wonder what might have happened if he’d been better prepared.”

 

“All I know is the whole thing was utterly embarrassing for both of us, I think. He knows I didn’t like him in high school. He asked about Blane. What had happened between us.” It was the one part of their conversation where shadows of the old Steff Mckee had shone through, Andie reflected. 

 

There was almost an undertone of betrayal when he’d asked her about Blane. They had supposedly been close friends at one time. But by all accounts, something had happened between junior and senior year between them and according to Blane his relationship with Steff had changed with little explanation as to why.

 

"So what happened next?" Iona pressed.

 

“Honestly the storm freaked me out and clearly Stef noticed. So to make me feel better he took me down into the basement and we talked and played a board game.” Andie explained. “Mystery Date. Can you believe it?” 

 

“Aw, Mystery Date. Classic.” Iona sighed. “So how did you guys part?”

 

“When the storm ended he walked me back up to the apartment and then to where he’d found me. I felt kind of weird about it. About leaving, I mean. I don’t know why. You know in the past he always pretended like he didn’t know who I was? Even though he asked me out at one point and gave me some line about liking me for four years.” Andie remarked.

 

“Obviously he handled your rejection badly. Didn’t you say he and Blane were best of friends?” Iona asked.

 

“Yeah, so?” Andie questioned.

 

“So...Think about that. Let’s assume, for the sake of argument that he really was telling the truth. Here’s a guy whose affluent. He could have any girl he wanted. Except for the one he wants most...The one he’s been observing from afar for years...And when he finally finds the nerve to confront you, you turn him down flat. You reject him and rightly so because he probably handled his come on badly. OK. Now enter Blane. Steff’s best friend. The guy who's supposed to know everything about his buddy yet he doesn't know his best friend Steff likes you.” Iona explained, her hands moving about like a cinematographer as they framed the scene.

 

“Yeah? So?” Andie wasn’t fully following where Iona was going with this.

 

“Well if Steff's as introverted as he sounds I’m saying I’m not surprised he gave you and Blane the cold shoulder. Acknowledging you would have been a dead give away that he’d been into you and if he and Blane’s relationship was on the rocks there’s no way he’d want Blane to know about it. This is what makes boys tricky.” Iona explained wagging her index finger. “Especially young men. There’s all these unspoken social politics involved.”

“I think the whole thing is stupid. Even if Steff did like me all that time he sure didn’t show it.” Andie pointed out.

 

“I’m just saying...Still waters run deep. I still love the first boy I fell for from high school. His name was Ricky. He runs a hair salon in Soho with his lover Marco now. Should have seen that one coming I guess.” Iona shrugged.

 

“All I know is they were both jerks about everything back then. Dragging me into any of it was totally unfair. You know...Steff apologized to me for being an asshole but besides getting caught talking shit about me by Duckie, I don’t recall him ever really doing anything to me worthy of being sorry about.” Andie remarked.

 

“As far as you know, anyway,” Iona said.

 

"Anyway, like I told Steff. The past is the past. Maybe he really has become a better person. Do you think people can change?" Andie asked.

 

"I dunno. I think it takes a real intense experience for someone to alter their character in a real way. Like surviving a near-death experience or seeing someone they care about die. Sometimes the things we think we know about a person's character isn't everything that's there. So we only put stock in the parts we do see." As always Iona was wise beyond her years.

 

“I guess. All I know is that he totally saved me last night. I told him before I left that he didn’t have to play stranger with me. That if he saw me on the street or something he didn’t have to feel like he couldn’t say hello.” Andie explained.

 

“Ah huh. I suppose you guys are sort of neighbors now with him residing so close to the shop. It might be professionally diplomatic of you to follow up.” Iona suggested.

 

~@~

 

After Andie left, Steff mulled around the apartment for a while and then ultimately went back down to the basement. Andie was right, most of the stuff that had been left behind was far from trash and although the basement wasn’t terrible it needed to be properly organized and cleaned out. So for the first part of his morning, Steff remained in the basement cataloging and moving things about. There was a great deal to be done that day but Steff had to wait for the rest of the world to wake up. His busy work also kept him thoroughly distracted from everything that had gone on earlier that morning.

 

Having any thoughts about Andie Walsh was counterproductive to his primary goal of the day. 

 

By nine o’clock, Steff figured it was safe to leave the apartment so that he could make some phone calls. In the pre-social media era of the mid 90’s most people without a dedicated line who needed to find people had to trek it down to the local payphone and use their friends or the listed telephone book to find their information.

 

Steff’s mission that day was to track down Blane McDonnagh. He former best friend. 

 

This part of his master plan was going to be the trickiest aspect considering Steff hadn’t talked to Blane since the summer of senior year. By then their life long friendship up to that point had been shattered. Steff sighed heavily at the thought. 

 

 **_Blane._ ** _The derpy fucking fuck._

 

Steff had a pretty good idea about what had happened over the summer. Blane and Andie had attempted to date through the remainder of the senior year which had been less problematic because they’d seen each other on neutral turf thanks to school. As far as he knew though Blane never introduced Andie to his parents. This told Steff that he’d never intended to get their approval and Blane never followed through with anything in those days that didn’t have his parents stamp on it.

 

The McDonnagh were not really bad or narrow-minded people. They were good supportive parents and if they had high expectations of their son it was only because they understood that Blane was the type of person who needed to be directed and who struggled with asserting himself. It was hard to say how they would have really felt about Andie Walsh in spite of the toxic seeds Steff had planted in Blane’s mind about it. In reality, Steff wanted to believe their only real objection would have been less to do with her pedigree and more to do with Andie being a distraction for Blane. One he didn’t need. 

 

_If she’d gone with me she wouldn’t have had to worry about what people thought of us. If we wanted to be together we would have been together. Fuck anyone’s opinion about it._

 

At this invasive thought, steff scowled deeply.

 

“Yeah well she didn’t want to be with me. Did she?” Steff asked rhetorically putting himself in his place on the subject.

 

He had no right to think about what might have been. There could only be room for what did happen.

 

Steff imagined that when it was time to consider college, Blane’s father Bill steered him towards his own alma mater to study structural engineering so that one day his father could hire him into the family business. He was dead sure that’s what had occurred. Once Blane had been accepted...Well, that was it for him and his lady love.

 

The mere possibility that Blane had been that weak about it all pissed Steff off to no end. However, in his current position, Blane’s career path actually served to benefit Steff’s goals if he could convince Blane to help him.

 

Construction was the McDonnagh line of work. 

 

Steff had no doubt that if he wanted to find Blane, he’d have to figure out what part of the company he was operating out of. McDonnagh Construction had offices across five states. There was no way to know which one Blane was affiliated with without some insider information.

 

“Hey, Janie. I need a favor.” Steff said into the receiver of the pay phone he was dominating on the corner of Fifth and Vining Street.

 

“I need you to call Joyce McDonnagh and drum up which office her dear son works out of. You’re still friends with the family, right? Good. Tell them you have a client trying to look at construction options and see if you can get me a meeting. Yeah. I realize that. Well if he doesn’t want to speak to me then I guess I’ll find out when I get there. Of course, I have a backup plan. OK thanks. I’ll be sitting in Christie’s Cafe. Call me there when you know. Thanks, Janie. I’ll let you know how it goes.” Steff finished his conversation and hung up the phone.

 

The truth was, he lied. Steff didn’t have a back up plan. At the very least he needed Blane’s advice if not his direct help.

 

It was nearly one in the afternoon when Janie reached him at Christie’s cafe to inform him that Blane McDonnagh was operating as an engineer manager out of the Anaheim office. It was a lucky break. By car, it would only take thirty minutes to get to Blane’s main office on the far side of the city.

 

Steff thanked Janie again and wasted no further time.

 ~@~

Blane McDonnagh had followed the rules of life. He’d been born into the right family and had thus been given every opportunity to succeed. Succeed he had. At twenty-six he was college educated and gainfully employed. For the most part, Blane was happy with his life. Happy with his situation. Happy with living in general obscurity. As his father said often, he had everything going for him. A bright, predictable, established future. 

 

Wasn’t that what everyone was supposed to want?

 

It had been a pleasant surprise when Janet Lee had rung him on his office phone. Janet had been one of Blane’s childhood friends and Steff’s cousin by marriage. The three of them had been thick as thieves when they’d been kids and later Blane had been responsible for introducing Janie to her beloved loaf of a husband. Scott Lee and Blane had been roommates in college. Scott had been studying drafting. It had been fascinating to see him work so hard for a degree in something he was good at only to become a happily kept man once he’d graduated and married Janie. He’d never seen a more happy couple.

 

When Janie had asked him to meet with one of her clients, Blane had found it odd that Janie hadn’t given him a name. Just the company. It looked like someone had bought up real estate in his home town of Orange and needed a contractor to consult on the construction project. It was likely going to be a small time gig compared to what Blane was used to helping with but since it was Janie asking and no commitments had been laid down, Blane saw no harm in meeting with the representative and giving him his opinion. If nothing else he could direct the person to a smaller more affordable firm.

 

Steff arrived promptly at one just after lunch with his portfolio in hand, including all the necessary information to get an estimate. The office building was a two-level contemporary build with an open floor interior. Glass and warm bright wood tones were the motif. Blane had just returned from lunch when he caught sight from the second floor of who was speaking to his receptionist. 

 

“Shit.” Blane’s spirits fell as he backed up slowly out of view.

 

For a moment Blane felt the irrational urge to escape and went so far as to wildly glance about his office as if he'd lost something.

 

It was in the middle of this looking about that Steff bounded up the stairs and stopped outside Blane's glass office to critically observe him. Furrowing his brows, Steff clasped the door handle and poked his head inside.

 

"Ah. Blane. are you, huh, looking for something? You seem distraught. I can come back later if you want." Steff had no intention of coming back later.

 

“Holy shit. Steff.” Blane couldn’t hide his confusion and discomfort. “What are you doing here?”

 

“OK. Clearly, my presence freaks you out. That’s fair. Janie helped me get a meeting with you. I know. It wasn’t the most forthright approach to take, but let’s get real. If you’d known ahead of time it was me, would you have taken the meeting?” Steff pointed out coming the rest of the way into the office but remaining at the door. 

 

“Steff what do you want?” Once the initial shock wore off, Blane reminded himself whose office it was they were standing in.

 

“Just some friendly advice. I swear.” In the past, Steff would have taken Blane apart for showing this kind of disgruntled insecurity. “I come in peace, man.”

 

“Yeah. Sure. So what can I do for you?” Blane said in a clipped manner as he glared at him.

 

Steff narrowed his eyes at Blane. “You know what? I can’t do this. I’m sorry. This was a mistake. You know? I realize I was a real piece of shit to folks but I never realized how scared some of you people are of me. That really just...That hurts my feelings. I’m **serious.** Look, just forget about it. Forget I was ever here. I’m sorry to have disrupted your pleasant day.”

 

Steff was frowning and shook his head as he tucked his portfolio under his arm and walked right back out the door. 

 

As Blane watched him leave he saw something he hadn’t seen in recallable memory. Steff was legitimately upset. Not angry. not frustrated. He was wounded. Blane hadn’t seen Steff Mckee express a truly genuine emotion of pain since they were kids. Witnessing this expression unknotted some of the emotional tension and cognitive dissonance he felt about his old friend and, In the end, Blane’s old feelings of loyalty and childhood devotion prompted him to curse himself and go after him.

 

Steff! Wait.” Blane demanded once he’d headed into the mostly empty parking lot. “I’m sorry. You caught me by surprise. I didn’t mean…”

 

“ _Let me ask you something_ , **_pal_ ** .” Steff randomly turned sharply on his heels as he neared his car. “What **_exactly_ ** did I ever do to you that was so **_bad_ **?” 

 

Steff was rubbing at one eye with a fist and there was a slight thickness to his tone.

 

“You were my best friend from the time we were eight. So what did I do to make you so God damned afraid to associate with me?” Steff demanded.

 

Blane stopped dead in his tracks a few feet away from him. He had that look of evasion in his eyes that Steff resented so much. “Steff, come on. What are you talking about, man? I’m not afraid of you. Jesus.”

 

“Have I ever mentioned I fucking hate when you lie to me and I always know when you're doing it? Come on, Blane. Man up and admit the truth for once in your sorry life. **_Tell me_ **.” Steff demanded.

 

“You know what? Fine. Do you want to know what it is? Do you really want to fucking know? You were a fucking control freak, man. God. Nothing I did was ever good enough for you. Not the people I liked, not the hobbies I had. What happened to you, Steff? You never used to be like that with me when we were kids. Then high school rolled around and by junior year it was like you’d become a completely different person. And yeah. It fucking scared me. So I did what I had to do. And I tried to go my own way for awhile.  You became a bad influence. A toxic mess. Everyone noticed it. I couldn’t let you drag me down with you.” Blane vented.

 

It was everything he’d ever wanted to say to Steff, at least regarding their individual relationship.

 

Blane might as well have slapped him. Steff looked truly stunned by this accusation. So stunned that he didn't say anything for a few minutes. He just stopped and stared as if Blane's words were too heavy a load for Steff's gears to turn over in his mind.

 

"Fine." Steff slowly said nodding carefully. "Look. I really just came here to ask for professional advice. This is the specs for the bar I'm trying to open. I based the financials on an earlier quote regarding the startup and building costs but it felt high. I'm looking for a contractor to do the demolition and remodel. Here. Look it over and have your secretary currier any notes. If you're not interested in it I'd appreciate if you'd nudge me in the direction of someone else you trust. Construction is your gig, not mine."

 

At that Steff tossed his portfolio at Blane and shaking his head turned and got into his car. Steff didn't wait for any more chit chat. Blane had said more than he could handle already.

 

Seconds later he took off.

 

Blane caught the thick portfolio and stood utterly bewildered ad Steff's car lurched off into the day like a bat out of hell.

 

For everything he'd accomplished and the years of growing up that had occurred, Blane suddenly felt like he always had. Uncertain, awkward, and small. Next, to Steff, Blane always felt diminished. Steff Mckee had always been a fierce and formidable individual, but he had also been quiet, patient, and sensible when they’d been younger. It was these latter qualities that had once made it possible for them to be the best of friends.

 

Confused and pissed off Blane returned to his office, tossed the portfolio on his desk and began to pace. Blane felt like he needed to do something but he didn't know what. He had no idea where Steff had gone or how to contact him.

 

 Blane wanted to continue their argument.  Or rather, he wanted the chance to respond to Steff's strange reaction. In all his life he'd never seen Steff defeated and yet his slow and even _fine_ had indicated exactly that.

 

Blane needed to vent to someone and the only possible option was Janet Lee.

 

Marching over to his desk Blane looked through his Rolodex and punched in Janet's number. 

 

"Hey there. It's Blane. I need to talk. I need to understand what the Hell just happened. Can you come by? Thanks Janie. No. He's not here. I don't know. Janie, I think I fucked up and I need you to enlighten me as to how bad. Alright. Thirty minutes. Bye."

 ~@~

 

Exactly thirty minutes later, Janet Lee under the guise of taking a late long lunch showed up at Blane's office and was promptly directed upstairs.

 

Blane was waiting for her in his conference room a slightly more private and blessedly soundproof room.

 

Janet Lee was a short woman with a kind of classical look that resembled a 1950’s pin-up girl. originally from a well known Jewish neighborhood of New York City, she was no pushover. When Janie saw the guilty look on Blane’s face after he let her into the conference room, Janie put down her purse and keys and placed her hands on her hips.

 

“Well?” Janie asked in her best mom tone.

 

“I don’t know. One second I’m having a normal day and the next thing I know Steff Mckee is standing at my office door. You know Janie, I really appreciate your sense of loyalty to all our old mutual friends but you should have told me it was Steff that wanted to see me. I was completely unprepared.”

 

“What exactly did you need to be prepared for? He didn’t come to you to reminisce. Tell me you didn’t panic and say something stupid.”  When Blane didn’t respond right away Janie stamped her foot at him. “BLANE. What did you do chase him out of the building?”

 

“Huh, something like that.” Blane shuddered and ran his fingers through his hair.

 

 _“What exactly did you say?_ ” Janet demanded trying hard to reserve her judgment of him.

 

“Well, huh, let me see. I asked what he was doing here…” He began.

 

“But you know why he was there. I told you.” Janie interrupted.

 

“Yeah well you were vague and people make lots of excuses to see each other out of the blue sometimes. I may have come off a little hostile and you know Steff. He’s not exactly one to back down. But then that’s when things got strange. I mean he literally backed down. He suddenly said he was sorry and how coming to see me was a mistake...I didn’t know the particulars of why he was there and last I checked we were no longer on speaking terms. So he bolted and when I went after him he just...He confronted me. Wanted to know what my problem with him was.” Blane explained, still clearly dumbfounded by the experience.

 

“...And?” Janie pressed trying to rush him to his point.

 

“...And, so; I told him.”  Blane confessed meekly.

“Oh. Oh God no. You didn’t, Blane. Please tell me you didn’t say what I think you said.” Janie gripped her abdomen like she was sick and eased herself down into one of the high backed chairs.

 

“I told him he was a controlling toxic mess back in high school and I hadn’t wanted him to drag me down. The thing is he just took that from me. Janie, I think I really hurt his feelings.”

 

“Oh yeah? Well, I think I’m about to  hurt some damn feelings.” Coming out of the chair in record speed Janet Lee persisted to thrash Blane over the head several times like a woodpecker laying into a tree stump. “What the Hell were you even thinking? Steff Mckee’s a human being you know? You insensitive prick.”

 

“Hey. HEY. No hitting, Janie! We’ve been over this. We’re not kids anymore. Cut it out!”  Blane protested as he ducked down and tried to deflect her assaults.

 

Janie pulled herself back and sitting down in a chair put her head between her knees trying to get her temper under control. “Man, nothing is ever easy with you two. Do you have any idea how hard it was for Steff to come to you today? Do you even know what’s at stake here? Do you know anything relevant to why Steff would come to you at all as he did?”

 "Well, no. Not really." Blane admitted.

“Steff’s broke. After he divorced the harpy witch from hell he married he turned around and sunk everything she didn’t get in the settlement into his business venture. Scott helped him with some of the plan but the idea for his bar is all his. If he can’t make a go of it, he’s through. He’s also sober, or as near to it as I’ve ever seen him. What you see is what your really getting with him now. It took two years of rehab and therapy to get him that far. But he did it. If you’re telling me the only thing you thought to talk about is how you were in high school then it’s your loss because Steff Mckee’s become a whole different person. Maybe you should think about what can happen in eight years of living.” Janie concluded her speech and smoothed out her skirt suit where she sat.

 

Blane said nothing to any of this but the look of surprise on his face said enough. It was clear he knew virtually nothing about his old friend and all the many things that had happened in Steff’s like while Blane was busy hiding from everyone.

 

“I want to talk to him, Janie. Face to face, if I can. But I don’t know where he is.” Blane admitted quietly.

 

“You said he was upset, right? Like near tears? He cries when he gets overly stressed or upset now. Express, not repress is the idea I think. If he’s tempted to drink there’s only one place I know he’ll find the strength to overcome it and it’s back at his parents' place. Since the blow-up started with his ex Steff rebuilt his relationship with his parents. Good money says that’s where he’ll be.” Janie deduced. 

 

“Fine. It’s a place to start anyway, right?” Blane muttered trying to smile at her.

 

“Blane.” Janie muttered flatly.

 

“Don’t go over there unless you’re able and willing to be his proper friend again. You want to hash out the past, go into analysis like the rest of us have. If you set Steff back after everything he’s overcome in recent years, I may just never have it in me to forgive you.” Janie warned him.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you're enjoying this fic please do comment on it. This is a true Steff story through and through. As always, thanks to those who have spoken up. You guys keep me going some days. Enjoy.

Chapter Seven

 

True to her prediction, as Steff peeled out of the parking lot leaving Blane behind to eat his dust all Steff could think about was how he wanted to escape the abhorrent feelings Blane had opened up in him with his little speech. 

 

One one hand Blane, like always, had nailed the simplest truth of the situation. Steff had been terribly controlling during their final year as friends. During that time every conversation Blane had with Steff had felt confrontational, accusatory, and outright belittling. Steff was willing to own up to his behavior but what galled and disappointed him the most about Blane is that they never talked about why Steff was so angry with him to begin with during that period in their lives.

 

They’d never once talked about the elephant in the room. Maybe Blane had always been too weak hearted to ask him about it and maybe Steff didn’t care to really know what had happened in Rome and why when Blane came back he’d seemed so skittish and unavailable.

 

_ We should have gone to Rome together like we always planned.  _

 

The thought opened up a whole other line of rapid impressions that led down deep winding path of possibilities. Paths Steff had never dared follow to their possible conclusions.

 

Yes, it was true that Steff had been controlling of Blane. But up until Steff had started laying into him with regularity, Blane had been distant and unapproachable just when Steff had needed him the most. Blane was the one who had initiated the rift between them when he'd started start lying about what he thought and felt. Steff had simply responded in kind.

 

It was approaching evening when he pulled into his parents' expansive driveway. The drive had been hellish long and Steff had gone through all the ups and downs of his emotional spiral of anxiety and hurt several times over by the time he arrived. in the end, he was mostly angry with himself for not sticking out the situation with Blane longer but he acknowledged as well that he had been wise to leave after Blane had upset him so much. Had he stayed he would have rebbutled and the result would have been disastrous to his plans.

 

"Steff. You're here." His mother Marianna observed dryly. "You didn't call. Are you alright?"

 

"No. Mother could you do me a favor and put some tea on for me? I'm going to go up if that's alright." Steff said at the door when his mother had opened it for him.

 

"Sure. We just put Ellenore down. She's probably still awake. If you plan to sleep here tonight I'll have Giana set up a room for you." Marianna clasped Steff's arm and brushed his hair from his eyes. "You're always welcome here, Steff. Your father and I love you."

 

Even with all the progress, Steff had made in the last few years to right his life, it was still difficult for him to hear his parents affirm their love for him. Some wounds took longer to heal than others.

 

In the past Steff would have brushed his mother off but his time in analysis had taught him that compassion was far more powerful than cruelty. 

 

Steff sighed. 

 

 It was important to make an effort with his parents. If not for his or their sakes than for the sake of his daughter. Steff took her hand away from his arm and hugged his mother snuggly.

 

"I love you too mom. I'm going to be alright. Everything is almost set up. I'm just having a bad day." Steff reassured her.

 

When he pulled away Steff caught the discomfort on his mother's face. As if his show of affection reminded her of unhappy things. 

 

This was the rub, he thought.

 

 For all his efforts to forgive his parents sins, he knew that if they couldn't forgive themselves in their own minds his fostered compassion would never be enough to reach them.

 

"Tell Giana she can do up a room." At that, steff pecked his mother on the cheek and side stepped her to head towards the second floor.

 

The long car ride had done much to get Steff through the bulk of his intense panic attack but the weight of his feelings still clung to him and there was only one remedy he knew to knock the onset of a deep entrenching depression that was looming. 

 

When all the trouble had started Steff had worked with the courts and child protective services to have his daughter set up with his parents until he could win custody and divorce his wife. His parents though not particularly on good terms with their son had unequivocally agreed to help him and were delighted to be allowed to take care of their granddaughter while their son fought for her safety and rights in court.

 

Ellie had her own room at the Mckee compound that his parents had settled in after he'd graduated high school. It was set more in the country and was less grand but more relaxing than the large home they'd kept in Orange.

 

Steff quietly came to the second level to peek into his daughter's room. The door was slightly ajar and the room glittering with twinkle lights and modest amounts of well-organized toys. Ellie was in her little bed with her oversized stuffed rabbit curled under one arm.

There it was. That relief he was looking for. Looking upon his daughter Steff leaning into the door frame and smiled softly watching her doze. At that moment Steff would have liked to wake her and sit up with her a little while but he knew there’d be plenty of time later to see her and interact. There was no need to disturb her now.

 

Still watching her with his arms crossed, Steff sighed deeply and chased away a few tears with the tip of one hand. Everything he had done in recent months had been for his Daughter’s sake. He’d given up everything for her and rightly so. Steff was determined to make sure Ellie had a good and happy upbringing. A far cry from the upbringing he had had.

 

Eventually, Steff did pull himself away and headed back downstairs. It was still early enough for Giana the family housekeeper to be there and it would be a while before his room was ready. Unlike his daughter, Steff rarely stayed at his parents country house. It simply wasn’t his home.

 

There were pleasant aspects to the house however and when he was there steff enjoyed sitting out in the back all weather room where he could look out into nature without having to be directly in it. Settling into the wicker sofa Steff’s mother popped in shortly later with his tea.

 

“Chamomile. There’s a whole pot in the kitchen for you. Giana will be going home shortly and I’m going to go to bed.. Do you mind locking up?” She asked.

 

“Thank you, mother. I’ll take care of it.” Steff agreed. “Is father home?”

 

“No. He’ll be back tomorrow. He’s handling a nasty case upstate right now.” His mother explained. “You’re still planning to take Ellenore with you at the start of the weekend, aren't you?”

 

“Yes. The furniture is supposed to arrive tomorrow and then on Friday I’ll be picking her up and taking her home with me.” Steff explained.

 

“Of course.” His mother said quietly.

 

Steff could sense Marianna was lingering now. As if she wanted to say something more, but didn’t know how to put it. Steff had a pretty good idea of what her hesitance was about.

 

“I’m not going to take Ellie away from you two. You’re her grandparents and she needs you both in her life. I thought for awhile you and father could keep her on the weekends and some holidays. It’s a bit of a drive but I’m willing to bring her out to you as much as you and Ellie want. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I appreciate you both being here for us.” Steff said carefully.

 

Steff though he hear Marianna whimper. A rare betrayal of her feelings. Steff had learned his remoteness from her.

“Well, taking care of our children is what mothers and fathers are for. Most of us do the best we can. You’re a very good father, Steff. I know you don’t always think very highly of yourself but in regards to Ellie you’ve been wonderful. What happened with Chelsea was unfortunate and upsetting but it wasn’t your fault. You’re the hero of Ellie’s life and that’s exactly what fathers should be to their daughters. Now whatever happened today that brought you here, try to let it go and don’t stay up too late. Goodnight son.” At that Marianna passed the still steaming mug to her son and leaned down to kiss him on the top of his head she then departed for the night.

 

Restless and still upset, Steff tried to relax and might have barely succeeded if  Giana hadn’t appeared quietly to speak to him.

 

“Excuse me, Mr. Steffen. But as I was preparing to leave a young man arrived and asked to speak with you. Is that what you wish or would you like me to send him away? It is getting late.” The housekeeper asked.

 

Steff had been sitting calmly with one leg tucked up underneath him and when he heard that someone had come, he knew exactly who it was and frowned.

 

“ _ Damn it, Blane.”  _ Opening his eyes he touched Giana at the wrist. “No Giana. Thank you for telling me. I’ll take care of our guest please feel free to go home and thank you for setting up my room.”

 

The middle-aged Indian woman smiled at this praise. “Thank you Mr. Steffen. It is good to see you again. Please be well.”

 

After that she departed and Steff slowly got to his feet sniffing deeply and rubbing at his face which still felt mildly swollen in places from his disturbed mind.

 

Steff padded to the front of the house and gently opened the front door. As he expected, Blane McDonnagh was standing on the grass waiting for him.

 

“Hey.” Blane said shyly waving meekly at him.

 

“Hey, yourself.” Steff muttered jutting out his chin at him. 

 

“Look Steff I know we got off to a bad start today but if your willing I’d like to try again. Think I can come in?” Blane implored.

 

“Fine. But let's keep it civil, yeah? There are people sleeping in here, Blane.  **_My people._ ** ” Steff emphasized reminding Blane whose turf he was crossing into.

 

Blane picked up his messenger bag as Steff let him in shutting the door behind him. 

 

Steff walked them towards the back of the house where he had been sitting originally.

 

“I’d offer you a drink, but I don’t really indulge anymore. I’m not even sure where the old man keeps the hard stuff in this place.” steff muttered.

 

“Oh, huh, that’s OK. I’m not really thirsty. Thanks anyway.” Blane replied politely.

 

“Fine.” Steff said flatley.

 

For a minute the two men just stood a few feet apart both unsure what to do next.

 

“So you don’t drink anymore. Good for you.” Blane remarked for lack of anything better to say.

 

“That’s right.” Steff nodded slowly finally sitting down. “I don’t drink or do drugs. Hell, I don’t even smoke anymore if you can believe that. I’m still not quite over the last one.”

 

“How long has that been your thing?” Blane asked.

 

“Oh. You know. Awhile. Look why don’t we cut the chit chat, Blane. I really don’t feel like a whole lot of small talk. You’ve managed to make my day a pretty shitty one and that’s saying alot given what I’ve been through lately. So let’s get into it. What did you want to say that couldn’t wait?” Steff asked, there was a hint of thick vulnerability in his tone.

 

“Alright. Why’d you run off on me today? Why couldn’t you just talk to me if you needed my help?” Blane asked.

 

“I left because I realized you didn’t want me there and because frankly, you pissed me off. Tell me, did it feel good to say all the things you said? I gotta say buddy it was kind of refreshing to see your backbone exposed. I’m kind of proud of you for that.” Steff muttered.

 

“I’m sorry. I was just telling the truth. I didn’t expect you to take it so hard.” Blane replied.

 

“Yeah well I did take it hard, didn't I? You want to know what pisses me off about what you said? It’s not that it wasn’t true. God knows I was a class A prick in high school towards the end. What pisses me off is your holier than thou attitude about it. Poor sweet gentle Blane. Always being lead around by your nose by big bad me. You act like every problem you ever had was because of me. Well let me tell you something, friend, you weren’t that interesting. By the end of highschool, I barely knew you existed. Wasn’t that what you wanted?” Steff demanded.

 

“No.” Blane said cooly resisting the urge to bite back. “That’s not what I wanted for us.”

 

“Yeah? Then what did you want back then? My approval? My sympathies? I might have been traveling down a dark road in high school but at least I lived my life instead of walking around looking over my shoulder like you.” Steff muttered evenly.

 

“Not everyone had all the angles figured out like you did, Steff. Some of us were just trying to get by. I didn’t need your approval but I would have taken some God damned support for five minutes. You weren’t the only one going through stuff back then.” Blane also tried to keep his voice even but he wasn’t as successful.

 

“Yeah well, what would either of us have known about each others problems? Eh? We didn’t exactly speak much by then. Funny how friendships can just dissolve like that.” Steff took up his tea and sipped deeply looking out into the darkening night.

 

For lack of anything better to do, Blane huffed and claimed a wicker chair kiddy corner to Steff.

 

“Yeah well I guess that’s what happens when best friends stop talking like best friends,” Blane muttered.

 

“As I recall you were the one who stopped talking to me,” Steff remarked.

 

“What? No I wasn’t.” Blane protested.

 

“Yes, you did,” Steff said.

 

“No.” Blane insisted.

 

“ _ Blane. _ You  **_did_ ** stop talking to me first. Remember Rome?  **_Remember that?_ ** God, how many years did we sit up talking about it? About what we’d see and do there? About how we were going to have the time of our lives. Then one day you have the nerve to pull the same shit you pulled on Andie Walsh over Prom. One day we’re best friends and suddenly you don’t return my calls? Then I have to find out come summer break that you left without me? What the fuck kind of bullshit was that? If you changed your mind all you had to do was say something.” Steff argued.

 

“I didn’t change my mind. I wanted you to come with me.” Blane admitted.

 

“Yeah? So then what? What changed?” Steff demanded.

 

“It was my parents,” Blane mumbled.

 

“Excuse me, what? Get the mush out of your mouth.” Steff tilted his ear towards him.

 

“I said it was my parents. When I started planning the trip they said they thought it would be better if I went on my own. That it was time to find myself a little before it was too late…” Blane explained.

 

Steff scoffed at this explanation. “Of course they did.”

 

This time blane didn’t have to spell it out for Steff. The truth was Blane’s parents didn’t trust Steff in Europe with their son. This all came back down to Steff’s degree of influence and for one reason or another, the McDonnaghs fear that he would one day lead their son astray somehow.

 

“Well? Did you find yourself in Rome, Blane? Tell me, I’m  **_dying_ ** to know.” Steff sniped.

“No.” Blane said quietly. “Rome was shit. Without you there with me, it was always going to be shit. I didn’t find myself in Rome. If anything I lost myself even more. And then I came back and...You wouldn’t talk to me. Junior year I hardly saw you at all. You were never at home, never at school. It’s like you just disappeared.”

 

“That’s because I did disappear. My family pulled me out for a few months at the beginning of Junior year.” Steff explained slowly.

 

“What? Why? How am I just learning about this now?” Blane asked.

 

“My family thought it was better. More secure. More private. You know how stoically passionate everyone around here is. Really I can’t really say they were unwise to do it.” Steff muttered.

 

“But, why? Why did they pull you out? I don’t understand.” Blane pressed trying to catch up.

 

Steff swallowed hard putting his mug off to the side. “Jesus, I can’t believe we’re talking about this. I never thought I’d ever talk about it again.”

 

Blane watched in fascination as Steff’s eyes began to shine. Dear God. Was Steff on the verge of tears?

 

“Steff. What? What happened?” He insisted.

 

Steff put his hand up urging Blane to keep is voice down. This was not a subject he wanted his mother to suddenly overhear them discussing.

 

“It was Nora, man. Late that summer while you were having your  _ shitty  _ time in Rome.” Steff took a deep shuddering breath. “Nora died.”

 

At this statement a heavy gloom rapidly overtook the room and as Blane processed what Steff said his throat dropped into his stomach as deep shock set in.

“That’s why I wasn’t in school that first semester. The doctors said it was a complication secondary to pneumonia not that I ever believed that story and even if it was true. I always wondered why the Hell wasn’t she taken better care of if she’d been ill? I certainly don’t remember ever being told she was sick. But then again no one told me much about Nora back then. Anyway we went and retrieved her body and we buried her. And that was it. I don’t know, shit happens. Right?” Although is voice was calm enough Steff’s gaze had fallen to the floor and his eyes were shut as if he was willing away his pain.

 

“It’s been...What? Ten years since then? In all that time you never told me.” Blane managed to remark.

 

_ “ _ **_I tried_ ** .” Steff interjected sharply. “It was never my intention to keep the information from you. But you were away when it happened and by the time you came back we were all still in so much shock... **I’m sorry** . I wanted to include you. Things might have been easier if I had. But...Nora’s death....It was paralyzing. And since I couldn’t talk about it...Not with you or my parents...I found other distractions. Drugs, booze.  **Whatever** . It’s a familiar sob story, I know.”

 

“Steff...Please. Don’t try to save face by pretending to be dismissive. Not about this. Your sister…” Blane started still in utter disbelief not only that Nora Mckee was dead but that Steff had kept it from him.

 

“My sister was a ghost of a person that no one knew existed. Maybe in some ways it was better that she passed away.” Steff interrupted.

 

“Stop. You’re only being contrary about the significance of her life because you're still upset by her death. Steff, your plans.”  Blane went on, again hitting upon the simplest truth.

 

Steff shook his head.

 

 “Fantasy.” A strange crooked smile bent onto Steff’s mouth as he remembered old promises he’d once made to himself that had never come to be. “Anyway man, if you wanted to know why I turned into such a bitter fucking asshole. There’s the reason. Now it’s all out in the open. Feel better?”

 

“Do you?” Blane inquired in a disturbed hush.

 

“No. I feel like shit. I want a drink and a fucking cigarette and instead of a calm night of wallowing, I’m sitting here talking to you. So, no. I do not feel better.” Steff muttered.

 

“Hm. I dunno. I think you feel a little better talking about it, regardless of what you say. I’m glad you told me even if it is ten years too late.”  Blane said in his reasoning tone before changing tacks. “Look Steff, I didn’t come over here to upset you. I really just wanted to apologize for being a dick about you showing up today. I also wanted to talk about this.” Blane opened up his messenger bag and pulled out the binder steff had thrown at him. “Are you serious about doing this?”

 

“The property is all mine. Lock, stock, and barrel. Cats is willing to invest and endorse if I can manage to prove myself. I need a contractor. You were my first choice. If you’re not interested then kindly direct me to someone you think might be willing to do it.” Steff remarked.

“No shit? Cats is going along with it?” Blane inquired.

 

“I’m giving them partial short term ownership if they do. Not exceeding five years. After that, if the place is still standing it reverts back to me in full. I’ve got enough in reserve to do the initial interior remodel. Just to give the investors something to look at, but I need it done fast and right. I realize The Kitten Club isn’t exactly the kind of place you normally contract with but I thought it might appeal to you on a personal level. I assume you’ve read through everything.” Steff said evenly, only slightly disappointed that his mug was now empty.

 

Blane nodded. “You know, when we were kids, you always talked about opening a place like this. I guess I always imagined you’d do it in Paris or Tuscany. Someplace far away and more suited to your tastes.”

 

“Yeah, well. I doubt there’s going to be many European excursions in my future, buddy. Happily, I got most of my wanderlust out of my system when we were kids. These days I’m looking for some homespun stability.” Desperately wanting more tea, Steff stood up and started walking towards the hallway. “Not to rush you or anything, but are you  **in** or  **out** ? Either way, I have to move quickly on this. So I need to know.”

 

Before Blane could reply, there was the sound of movement and rustling could be heard coming from another part of the house on the main floor. At the sound, Steff’s eyes widened in acute attention. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

 

Steff then abruptly disappeared. 

 

The sound had been subtle. Too subtle and scattered for an adult and Steff knew his mother wasn’t the type to come back downstairs after she retired. That meant that Ellie was up. Steff’s parental instincts shot into overdrive has a slew of scenarios flew through his mind of Ellie trying to get at something in the kitchen and hurting herself. She was small for a five-year-old and her fine motor skills though not seriously behind were not quite where the pediatrician wanted them to be. Like any parent worth anything, Steff constantly worried about his daughter. The sooner they were together full time the better for them both.

 

Steff walked to the kitchen and slowed his pace. He wasn’t sure if Ellie knew he was there and he didn’t want to run the risk of scaring her. Stopping at the archway, setting down his mug on an end table, and kneeling down to be more at his daughter's level he gently called out to her.

 

“Hey, String Bean. Is that you that I hear? Why are you up, kiddo?” Steff called out as softly as possible while still being audible to her.

 

“Daddy?” An equally soft voice inquired poking skeptically around the corner of the counter which she was shorter than.

 

“Hey, baby girl. Come here.” Steff stood slowly and came to her picking her up in his arms. “Let me have that cup. Remember only people  _ this tall  _ are supposed to handle glasses in the kitchen. Right?” 

 

“Yeah.” Ellie agreed, understanding she wasn’t in trouble and that Steff understood she’d just been thirsty. 

 

Steff glanced around and saw that the housekeeper had been cleaning the glassware and had left several glasses out to dry on the kitchen table. The chair being pushed as Ellie had climbed up on it to get at them was the sound he had heard.

 

_ Thank fucking God I was here. _ Steff thought.

 

“Wanna sit up with daddy while you have a drink? Only water though, String Bean. OK?” He reasoned.

 

“OK, Daddy,” Ellie said, as she clung to Steff’s neck.

 

Steff took the short round glass and filled it with cool water from the tap and then carried his daughter and the glass back with him across the house.

 

When Blane saw Steff return with his bundle he was near speechless and for lack of a better reaction promptly stood up and ran his fingers awkwardly through his hair. 

 

“Steff?” He asked indicating to the child and shrugging in bewilderment.

 

Steff lazily looked at him. “It’s a kid, Blane. Haven’t you seen one before? Sit down. She’ll probably be out in a few minutes. I found her in the kitchen trying to get at something. Kids do that sometimes at night in case you forgot.”

 

Sighing Steff ignored him for a while as he adjusted his daughter on his hip and plucked a lap blanket off the sofa. Steff put the water glass down. His mug was still on the edge of the kitchen now completely forgotten. Steff settled back into the sofa and adjusted Ellie again swaddling her in the blanket and settling her once more on his lap and into the crook of his arm and shoulder as he finally took up the water glass he painstakingly let his daughter sip from it.

 

“Is this your kid?” Blane asked in a whisper.  

“That’s right. Who else would she be? Her name is Ellie.” Steff muttered.

 

 Look why don’t you give me a minute with her, Blane. She’ll probably be asleep shortly here. I know. Why don’t you do me a favor and go get me my tea. I left my mug by the kitchen. Turn off the pot if it’ll still on too while your at it. Please?” Steff requested.

 

“Huh? Oh. Yeah, sure. I’ll...I’ll be right back.” Blane muttered still trying to wrap his head around what he was seeing.

 

_ Ellie? As in Ellenore? Steff must have named her after his sister Nora.  _ Blane rapidly concluded.  _ My God. Nora’s dead and he never told me. What the fuck, Steff? Why would you do that to yourself?  _

 

Blane scrubbed at his face. 

 

The thought of the magnitude of Steff’s loss and how hard it must have been for him to contain his feelings as a teenager made Blane’s eyes well with tears and his righteous indignation flare on Steff’s behalf. Steff never ceased to amaze Blane. What terribly rigid will it must have taken. What terrible force of will for Steff to not only hide his pain but also to avoid allowing it to completely obliterate him. 

 

While Blane had secrets of his own that had contributed to the implosion of their friendship, this information was a bombshell. Blane made a mental note to confront Janie about it. Surely she knew about Nora as well having been part of Steff’s extended family most of their lives.

 

Blane took his sweet time in the kitchen. Working to get his own emotions under control. He felt like he was waking up out of some bizarre coma. As if the last eight years had been one long meaningless fever dream that he was only just coming out of only to realizing the world had gone on spinning without him.

 

Several minutes later Blane quietly padded back towards the back of the house carrying two mugs of steaming chamomile tea. Blane didn’t really like tea but out of solidarity to Steff sobriety, he simply went with it.  

 

Blane’s approach was silent and even if it hadn’t been Steff was entirely preoccupied with his child to realize that Blane had nearly returned. Instead of going straight back in, Blane stopped in the hall to listen. 

 

Steff was singing softly. It sounded like a rod Stewert song. Forever Young. Blane only placed it after he heard the title repeated within the lyrics. Steff was singing to his daughter obviously trying to lull her.

 

_ May the good Lord be with you down every road you roam. _

_ And may sunshine and happiness surround you when you're far from home. _

_ And my you grow to be proud, dignified and true. _

_ And do unto others as you'd have done to you. _

_ Be courageous and be brave. _

_ And in my heart you'll always stay _

 

_ Forever young.  _

_ Forever young. _

 

_ May good fortune be with you, may your guiding light be strong, _

_ Build a stairway to heaven with a prince or a vagabond. _

_ And may you never love in vain. _

_ And in my heart you will remain _

 

_ Forever young.  _

_ Forever young.  _

 

_ And when you finally fly away, I'll be hoping that I served you well. _

_ For all the wisdom of a lifetime, no one can ever tell. _

_ But whatever road you choose, I'm right behind you win or lose, _

_ Forever young.  _

_ Forever young.  _

_ Forever young.  _

 

_ For forever young _

 

Steff Mckee was a person of many talents and private interests that even most of his friends weren’t aware of. He was a classic car aficionado for example and actually was fairly good at building and repairing vehicles. He also could sing, arrange, and play music although Blane had rarely seen him demonstrate these latter skills. In fact, Blane quite suspected that he and Janie were the only people who knew Steff Mckee could play at all, let alone that he was a self-taught audiophile.

 

Blane listen to the words, it was an unusual choice for a young child’s lullaby but the general sentiment was touching. Peeking around the door frame Blane saw that Steff was now cradling his daughter outright as he sang and rocked her gently. Not surprisingly the little girl was sound asleep. This time it was a heavy weighted sleep that only children seemed capable of. The expression on Steff’s face was one of pure parental love. In that simple expression of sleeping child and doting parent, there was no question that Steff loved his daughter and that their relationship was one of absolute trust.

 

Blane waited until Steff finished the song before he quietly waltzed back into the room pretending as if he hadn’t been standing in the hall listening all that time.

 

“Looks like she’s out again,” Blane observed quietly.

 

“Yeah, this time for good I think. I’m going to put her back in her room. I’ll be right back.” Steff muttered.

 

“Oh. Yeah, sure.” Blane nodded distractedly.

 

Once again Blane found himself awkwardly waiting as Steff carefully stood up and left to put his daughter back to bed.

 

“So,” Steff said when he returned about ten minutes later. “What’s new with you? I see you’ve finally grown into your face a little. You look good. You married? Divorced? Kids?”

 

“Oh. You know. Living the dream.” Blane replied weakly giving steff an exaggerated shrug.

 

“Oh yeah? What’s that dream look like for you?” Steff inquired, as he centered his intense focus fully onto Blane for the first time since he’d arrived.

 

“Oh, well. I’ve mostly focused on my education and career. I’ve really only just begun to establish myself. I’ve tried, you know, to keep my options open. I mean, I’m not even thirty yet. Why rush things?”

 

“Right,” Steff muttered flatly clearly neither impressed nor surprised by Blane’s response.

 

“Look about the Club. How soon are we talking here? Six weeks, six months?” Blane asked shifting the conversation away from his own empty personal life.

 

“Try sixteen days. I just need the floors and the walls demoed and all the proper utilities to be double checked.” Steff replied.

“Just over two weeks? From now? Steff, your crazy.” Blane blurted.

 

“Why? Are you saying it can’t be done in that amount of time?” Steff pressed.

 

“Yes. I mean, no. I mean...I suppose. Assuming I had a full crew and all the right material upfront. Sure. But I don’t know anyone who would be willing to do it on such short notice.” Blane protested.

 

“Is that your way of saying you're not willing to do it?” Steff asked.

 

“Steff, be reasonable.” Blane encouraged him. “You’re asking for an awful lot here.”

 

“Yeah. **Fine**. Does everything at least **_look_** correct? The projected costs? Everything?” Steff asked compressing his lips.

 

“Assuming everything you’ve got here is in proper order. I’d say your cost estimation are on the high side. I took the liberty of adjusting them for you based on what I know about the property, But I’d have to inspect it myself to know for sure.” Blane muttered.

 

“Great. Thanks. Well, man? I guess that’s that then. Thanks for your professional advice and for coming on over here. It’s been a trip. Now if you’ll excuse me I still feel pretty shitty and I have a mountain of project to tend to tomorrow so, if you’ll pardon me, I think I’m going to call it a night.” Steff stared at Blane as he spoke. The old unaffected look coming into his features. 

 

_ He’s pushing me away. He thinks I won’t help him and he’s actually shutting me out. Fuck! Come on Steff give me a God damned break here.  _ Blane thought doggedly.

 

“I’m sorry, Steff.” Blane said. “Look maybe we can go out some nights and talk some time. I’d like to keep up to date with how things are going if you’re willing.”

 

“Yeah. Sure, pal. Why not? Hey, no hard feelings. Why don’t you keep that binder? I’ve got other copies. You can show yourself out, right?” Steff inquired in that smooth light why he spoke when he was secretly upset and just wanted the other person to go away.

 

“Sure, Steff. I know my way out the door. For what it’s worth? Thanks for letting me in. I know you’re going to get through this rough patch. If you ever need someone, think about calling me.” Blane muttered as he packed his messenger back once more.

 

Steff just nodded.”Thanks. I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your interest in this story. Please review if you're enjoying it. I know I'm enjoying writing it. Feedback is always beloved and encouraged.

The next morning Steff had breakfast with his daughter and took her out with him for a short walk before he had to leave to meet the movers. For Ellie’s part, she was a quiet timid child and didn’t fuss when Steff had to leave her to go back. Of this he felt proud.

 

During the drive back to Orange Steff contemplated possible contingency plans and reflected on Blane McDonnagh.

 

Besides getting an education and working, Blane’s life struck Steff as being unusually empty at this point in his life. It also bothered Steff that Blane seemed so humdrum about it. 

 

Steff felt he didn’t understand him anymore. 

 

Surely, Blane was an awkward shy type but he wasn’t stupid or unattractive. He’d gotten a pretty good education and Steff was pretty sure his position in his father’s company hadn’t been purely nepotism. For all appearances Blane's character was still mostly forthright when he wasn’t being a spineless idiot, or so Steff imagined based on the conversation they’d had.

 

 Yet he’d felt isolated. Cut off. Like Blane had been living under a rock the last several years and had no idea what the hell was going on outside the perimeter of his small world. Worse still, it almost seemed like he preferred it that way.

 

Steff narrowed his eyes in frustration as he drove. He was doing it again. Hyper focusing on how Blane was conducting his life. What the fuck did he even know about Blane’s life these days and what did he care?

 

_But I do care. I've always cared about you. You little twerp. You were the only one worth anything when we were young._

 

Shaking off such useless thoughts Steff drove the rest of the way focusing on what needed to be moved and how he was going to do it.

 

 He planned to have the movers put everything on the ground level and leave it for Steff to take up on his own. Normally he might have just paid to have the movers do it like in his first home but Steff wanted time to connect with the space and doing it himself seemed like the best course.

 

The moving truck had just arrived when Steff pulled up. As he drove past it slowly to take a position on the curb side in front of the truck he caught sight of someone standing casually against the side of the building.

 

Blane's preppy style hadn’t changed. The boy had simply grown up into a man. Steff slowly smiled to himself.

 

_Maybe we're still friends after all._

 

"What the Hell are you doing here? Slumming?" Steff couldn't help displaying his bold enthusiasm by getting out of his car, slamming the door behind him and waltzing up to where Blane was leaning with a smug expression on his face.

 

Blane looked pleased. Recognizing that Steff was actually glad to see him.

 

"Eh. It's my day off. I thought you could use some help settling in." Blane shrugged as he pushed off of the wall. "Besides If I'm going to be demolishing and retrofitting this place, I thought I should see for myself what I was getting into."

 

To this Steff genuinely smiled and nodded approvingly. "Alright."

 

It took Steff and Blane about an hour to move all the big appliances in. While the freight elevator was useful, in some cases it was easier to just take things right up the stairs and into the apartment.

 

"You could have had the movers do this part, Steff. I don't know how you thought you were going to do some of it alone." Blane muttered as they hoisted the long oversized sectional up the stairwell.

 

“Yeah well maybe subconsciously I hoped I wouldn’t have to do it alone.” Steff proposed through gritted teeth. “Wait now. We’re going to have to pull it down along the hallway and bring it your way through the door. Ready? Go.”

 

Steff and Blane managed to get the sectional just barely through the door. Once they had it where Steff wanted it they decided to take a break and have some cold Cokes that Blane had chilled for them in a portable cooler.

 

“Wait. You were hoping I’d show up?” Blane asked incredulously.

 

“I was **_hoping_ ** you were still my friend.” Steff said carefully. The last thing Steff wanted was to deflate the significance of Blane’s gesture by making it seem like he’d anticipated it. “I’m not going to lie, man. I need friends right now.” 

 

“So what was it like the last several years? I heard you married into the Langley clan. That must have taken iron balls.” Blane knew of the Langely’s. His father’s company had worked with them on several projects over the last decade. Although Blane had never met them personally, he’d heard enough stories to be grateful he never had.

 

“Trust me. It wasn’t my idea.” Steff muttered. “They Langley’s aren't scary they’re just rich and far reaching. There wasn’t a whole lot of anything special going on there. Believe me.”

 

“Huh, something wasn’t your own idea and you still went along with it? That doesn’t sound like you much.” Blane pointed out. “So how’d you get roped into marriage then?”

 

“For one, Chelsea didn’t want to get married either. We were both pretty adamant about **_not_ ** being a thing in spite of the wet dreams our parents were having over playing matchmaker.” Steff actually smiled slyly at the memory.

 

“So what you're saying is you hated each other.” Blane affirmed.

 

“Yep. And we still do for that matter. It would almost seem romantic if it weren’t so sick. We were both active addicts at the time. I’d been in and out of rehab twice by that point but it hadn’t really stuck. I’d just gotten better at hiding what I did. So when our parents set us up together we basically spent our dates getting loaded, verbally sparring with each other, and eventually messing around. At the time it was utterly ideal. And well, I guess sometimes when you fuck somebody long enough and you mutually hate other people more than you hate eachother a kind of love can develop out of that.” Steff explained with a shrug.

 

“Jesus, Steff.” Blane remarked looking horrified at the thought of such a toxic dynamic.

 

“I know, I know. I wised up eventually. Anyway when we started falling in love we started being less careful and you know how that story goes. Six months later we were pregnant. Our plan was to marry just initially and when everyone calmed the Hell down we were going to get our marriage dissolved and not tell anyone. Neither of us minded keeping up with appearances at the time.” Steff explained before taking a deep swig from his coke bottle.

 

“SO is this divorce part of all that?” Blane asked, utterly confused by what Steff was describing.

 

“No.” Steff replied quietly. “This is the real deal. We never did separate, see. We stayed together.. Chel had problems with the pregnancy. I honestly don’t think she ever wanted children or expected to be pregnant.” Setff mumbled. “It’s easier for men. You know? If we don’t want kids is just a matter of a little snip in the day clinic. Women though, they have to deal with chemicals that can make them crazy and creams that can make them sick, and all sorts of other annoying shit. It’s unbelievable if you really think about it”.

 

Blane could tell that the topic was unsettling to Steff. That there were details that bothered him deeply. Normally Blane might have changed the subject.  He didn’t like inciting pain in others and he never knew what to say when people started talking about their deeper problems. But Janie’s words as well as his own morbid curiosity reminded him that in Steff’s case he needed to make an effort. He needed to try and be a real friend and confidant now. 

 

“I took care of her through the pregnancy. She got really sick, you see. And we weren’t sure if Ellie was going to make it to term alive. But we knew this was the only shot we were going to have so we agreed to go through with it regardless of what happened. So I manned up. Took over everything. Kept her out of the hospital. Kept her as distracted as I could. Kept her sober. Ellie still came early. But she was OK. No problems or complications she was just a little small is all.” Steff shrugged as a play of emotions danced across his face.

 

Regret, love, sadness, pride.

 

“What about Chelsea?” Was she OK after the birth?” Blane settled into a bar chair near where Steff was on the sectional.

 

“No. The C-section was hard on her and she had to stay in the hospital for a little while. And then suddenly it wasn’t just a little while. It was a long time. Her doctors felt that the pregnancy caused a deep depression which rolled into a kind of postpartum psychosis. So I made the decision to commit her for treatment. As much as Chel and I hate each other now, even she admits it was the right thing to do. She needed that time away from me and away from the responsibilities of being a mother.” Steff explained.

 

“So who took care of Ellie?” Blane couldn’t imagine any of it, the scenario was beyond any frame of reference he had.

 

“ **I did**. I took Ellie home. Took time off of school and just took care of her that entire first year. The first three years, really. The day she came home was the day I started true sobriety. Frankly, compared to raising a kid sobriety seemed like the easier challenge.” Steff explained slowly with just a touch of pride and somber amusement in his tone.

 

“And Chelsea?” Blane was dumbfounded by the entire concept.

 

“She tried. She really did. All other issues aside, some parents just don’t do well during the baby stage. She struggled and I did my best to help her through it. But sometimes it was easier to just have her not be there. So Chel would go away periodically and stay with her parents in New York. Really it wasn’t all bad and the doctors and specialists were confident that as time went on Chel would become more confident with Ellie.” Steff explained.

 

“Oh yeah? Did she ever achieve that?” Blane was trying to be supportive and understanding but the truth was everything Steff was telling him seemed horrible and encouraged skepticism.

 

“No. Well, I mean, not without about a grand worth of blow and a martini to back her. When Ellie was about three years old, the doctors encouraged me to start letting Chel have more uninterrupted and unsupervised time with her. I...I tried to be supportive of that. Of letting her bond with Ellie on her own. I really did. I mean, It would have been nice to be able to parent with her. To trust her enough where I could go away once in awhile. You gotta realize I didn’t work during any of this and was mostly taking classes via correspondence. Ellie was my entire concern, but as committed as I was I needed some personal space too.” There was a defensive edge to the latter part of this narrative as Steff crossed his legs and started holding the coke bottle similarly to how he might have held a highball when they were younger and he was in a mood.

 

“Hey whoa, buddy. Of course you deserved time to yourself. Everyone needs that.” Blane could sense Steff getting agitated and Blane knew as well as Janie did that it wasn’t wise to fan the flames. 

 

“Yeah, everyone needs their personal time.” Steff agreed diplomatically. “When Ellie turned four, Chel came to me and said she thought it was time that I reprioritize. She thought I should go back to school full time and try and finish something. Or at the very least go back to work doing something. Neither of us needed to work you know. But there was a certain pressure to conform for appearances. Chel always liked to observe appearances. In her mind it was one thing for her to struggle, to stay at home, to play house but as her husband I had bigger duties to our family.” Steff said, scowling.

 

“ **Wow.** After all you’d been doing and she plays **_that_ **card? What the fuck?” Blane muttered.

 

“Everyone play’d that card with me. My parents, her parents, most of our mutual yuppy friends. It was just alot of God damned pressure from all sides. I admit, I caved.” Steff shrugged negligently. “So I went back to work and took a few classes here and there.”

 

“Steff Mckee working. I have a hard time picturing it.” Blane shook his head and eased off the bar stool to putz around in the kitchen and start plugging appliances in.

 

“Excuse me please. You know perfectly well I’ve worked on and off all my life. I will never understand the assumption by anyone that just because I didn’t have to work that I wouldn’t want to.” Steff muttered, although both of them knew he was just being flippant in play.

 

Blane chuckled. “So what did you end up doing?”

 

“Oh a little bit of this, a little bit of that. I worked as a sound engineer for awhile over at the college up near where we were living. Tutored for their music and technologies department. even directed some summer theater for the high school out there. _Twelfth Night_.” Steff muttered in an indifferent fashion.

 

“And yet you aren’t an engineer or a teacher.” Blane pointed out.

 

 _“_ **_I’m not anything_ ** _.”_ Steff corrected him baldly. “Anyway, it was enough to appease the wife. The only downside is it kept me from home sometimes.”

 

There was something about the way Steff said this that made Blane pause what he was doing and pad back into the living room to stand near the corner of the wall. “Something happen, Steff?”

 

Steff lifted his eyes slowly from the spot on the floor he’d been staring at to look at Blane. “Yeah. Something happened.”

 

The look on Steff’s face told Blane he didn’t want to elaborate further. He couldn’t elaborate further. 

 

“Well it’s over now. Right? New start. New life.” Blane said gently. “Come on, man. Let’s get the rest of this stuff up here and then you can show me around. OK?”

 

“Yeah. OK.” Steff agreed.

 

 _It’s over now._ Steff repeated in his mind. _If you ask for help, people will help you. So let them help you and be grateful you’re not doing this all alone._

 

Steff and Blane took another hour to finish moving everything into the apartment and situate them in their designated room spaces. In reality the apartment Steff had claimed as his own was just an open floor two bedroom of no extraordinary size. The amount of natural light and the small details of the living space however made both the apartment and the entire building worth every penny in Steff’s opinion. 

 

Once they were done Steff did take Blane on an extensive tour of the property during which both men fell into a deep ongoing discussion that exposed their individual passions and helped promote their renewed friendship.

 

For Blane the thing that got him fired up was the buildings bones. He marveled at how evident it was that the entire building was built according to the old standards of design so commonly missing in modern construction. The building was beyond sturdy, it’s construction still tight and well maintained. But most importantly the building had undeniable character. A diffinatively old world feel that was almost impossible to find in a commercial building that wasn’t on the historical registry. Blane had to admit it would be difficult for him to alter the premises. Not because he couldn’t but because he knew to preserve its integrity, to preserve the spirit which had attracted Steff to it, Blane would have to go slow and be courteous about every detail.

 

For Steff’s part, he loved the building for its character as well but he was specifically entranced by the places acoustics. The potential for high quality intimate performance was undeniable and Steff knew exactly how two tweak every individual area to achieve something special and unique.The main middle bar was of specific interest to him. It had the perfect balance of centered sound amplification while de-emphasizing the gray noise outside of it. The piano bar was Steff’s personal favorite. It would be the hook that brought people in and that encouraged all kinds of interplay.

 

“You going to start playing again when this is all setup?” Blane had asked him at one point.

 

“Oh, you know. Maybe after hours. When everyone’s gone away for the night. I don’t plan to be that visible when this place takes off. It’s just a means to an end.” Steff had muttered.

 

Blane hadn’t believed him when he said it but refrained from further commentary. Instead the men went on to talk about the property and Steff’s plans for hours. Steff had envisioned every detail. He was a notorious methodical perfectionist at times. But to Steff’s credit, in this instance, his ideas were flexible enough to accomodate Blane’s professional recommendations and concerns when they arose. It was a nice balance for both of them and by the time they concluded the extensive tour both men had developed a renewed respect and appreciation for the other that was based in the present and not on reminiscent memories of the past.

 

Blane stayed well into the evening talking with Steff, bullshitting with him, helping him unpack and set up things while they ate pizza and drank their fill of the pizza and root beer they’d had delivered. Their conversation didn’t veer too deeply back into the details of either of their personal lives, but for the first time in years both felt a sense of comradery and belonging in each other’s presence. This was Blane and Steff in their most natural state together. Only, it was better now because they were both adults. They’d grown up and grew out of some of the less flattering aspects of their natures. 

 

It was understood between them now that they were still friends and that they would always be friends no matter how much they fought and misunderstood each other.

 

The thing about Steff and Blane that no one else understood was how much they actually complimented each other and how much they needed their friendship to be happy.

 

In the end, Blane agreed to do the remodel. 

 

Steff had been right. The place did appeal to him on a personal level and his father had always encouraged him to occasionally take on personal pet projects to keep his professional life interesting. Deep down though Blane knew the real reason he was so interested in the project was because it involved Steff and any time Blane did something involving Steff he felt alive. He felt like he was somebody. He felt like he could be who he was and not who everyone expected him to be.

 

Privately it felt like he was being tossed an unexpected life buoy. Blane hadn’t realized until he’d chosen to come over to Steff’s that morning, just how close to drowning he’d really come. 

 

That was all over now though. The endless mindless stagnation was being cleared away. It was a fresh start. A new chance to live life more authentically than he had before. 

 

_Thank God you’ve come back, Steff. Why did you leave us like you did? I don’t understand what happened. But I’m glad you’re back. I’m glad you never gave in. Maybe now I can learn not to give in either._

 

Blane thought these things towards the end of their night when their talking had slowed and Steff had dug out his Guitar to play idly for them. Blane could play passingly but not nearly as well as Steff. So much talent for someone so resistant to doing anything with it. Some would have said it was a shame.

 

Blane would have said, that was just how Steff was. He was a force that no one could put in a corner or contain.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: discussion of death, abuse, and drugs use, and suicide.

It rained the rest of the week in Orange, but after the last big storm that had rambled on through the rest of the rain by comparison was like a series of gentle kisses. 

 

Despite his initial concerns, Blane pulled through for Steff at the last minute and construction of the Kitten Club began promptly Friday morning with Blane personally overseeing the project. 

 

What Blane had done to make it happen, Steff didn’t know and didn’t ask about. 

 

Instead, Steff simply set up the upper level gallery space as their command center and stayed out of Blane’s way unless he was called for.

 

If Blane McDonnagh was lacking in most every other life element, the way he handled himself professionally was the exception to his general nature. On the job Blane was a directive, confident, meticulous, and charming force. He was also a consummate professional who ran his crews tight and clean. Despite his young age, it was clear to Steff that Blane’s subordinates genuinely liked and respected him and, more importantly, trusted his judgement and vision.

 

Of all of this Steff quietly observed and the more he saw Blane in action the more the same thought kept floating about his mind.

 

_Jesus christ, Blane. If you could only be like this in every part of your life, no one would be able to deny you. You could have anything you wanted._

 

Although Steff had always been more popular than Blane, Blane had possessed a kind of innocent and honest charm that impressed upon people. A good example of this had been several years ago when Blane had found himself in the position of having to give the eulogy of one of their high school friends who had died unexpectedly that year. 

 

_Amanda would have enjoyed watching you reduce the entire room to tears. She would have found it a grand old lark._

 

Steff hadn’t attended Amanda Trombley’s funeral. 

 

Everyone had thought it was because he was being a snob, but the truth was that Steff knew he wouldn’t have been able to bare sitting through it without saying something. Without doing something. Without commiting a possible act of homicide. His boycott of the funeral had caused a storm of hushed speculation among the townies of Orange regarding the nature of his relationship with Amanda but Steff hadn’t stuck around to listen to most of it. Instead he’d left Orange and put himself into rehab far away.

 

All of that was the past now.

 

 Amanda Trombley was long dead and all but forgotten by the local community. Steff however could never forget her.

 

“Hey Steff it’s after lunch time. I was planning to order pizza for the crew. My treat. Did you have a preference?” Blane said appearing at the top of the side stairs to interrupt Steff’s day dreaming.

 

“No. Sounds good. Tell you what. Instead of having it delivered why don’t I go pick them up? I could do for some fresh air.” Steff muttered distractedly as he pulled himself away from the spread out blueprints he’d been trying to study.

 

Blane considered Steff.

 

 He looked different than he had earlier that morning. As if he’d been thinking about unhappy things. Blane knew now that part of Steff’s sobriety was about living with the things that pained and depressed him instead of trying to medicate himself from them and that meant Steff was prone to more moods than he once had been.

 

“Sure. You OK, Buddy?” Blane asked joining him near the table.

 

In the past Steff would have lied. He would have told Blane he was fine and then disappeared to sulk or drink or shoot skeet. Whatever it took not to deal with his thoughts and memories.

 

 _Don’t even think about lying to him. Express. Don’t repress._ Steff coached himself.

 

“Just thinking. A dangerous prospect, I know. You ever talk to the Trombely’s anymore?” Steff highly doubted it since the Trombley’s had been working class people with a bad reputation.

 

“No. I don’t think the Trombely’s are around anymore. Frank died a few years ago. Cirrhosis of the liver. His wife Sandy, she sold the house as soon as she could and left town. Why?” Blane asked.

 

Steff sighed loudly as his anxiety significantly lifted. “Thank god that Frank Trombley is dead. There are some people Blane, who don’t deserve to breathe the air of this world.”

 

 “Yeah. I know Frank Trombely wasn’t a good person. Once Amanda died and was buried I think the entire town turned their backs on him. I don’t really think he cared one way or another which was fine by everyone. What got you thinking about the Trombley’s all of a sudden?” Blane asked.

 

Steff huffed and quirked a sardonic smile at Blane. “You actually.”

 

“Oh yeah? How's that?” Blane cautiously asked.

“Watching you today made me consider what you must have been like during Amanda’s funeral. You gave the eulogy, didn’t you?” Steff asked.

 

“Yeah. I did. Sandy asked me to do it. Did you know the grave site got moved?” Blane asked.

 

“What? Why? How’d the Trombely’s manage to afford that?” Steff muttered.

 

“Sandy used her husband’s life insurance policy after he died. He might have been an asshole but he was union and I understand the payout was rather large.” Blane explained.

 

“No shit? Well well. Isn’t that just some kind of justice.” Steff snorted.

 

As they talked Blane’s assistant came trotting up the stairs. “Hey guys, I think the troops are getting restless. We doing pizza or what?”

 

This effectively disrupted their conversation as Blane and Steff took time out to make good on their promise. Once everyone was fed they then both got side tracked with different aspects of their work and it wasn’t until the crew went home for the day that Blane found time to follow up again.

 

As was proper, Blane was the last to leave the work site but before he took off for the night an idea occurred to him.

 

“Hey. What are you still doing here, man?” Steff asked when he noticed Blane’s car was still parked on the side of the building and had come down to check on him.

 

“I had a thought. Get in.” Blane muttered.

 

Steff gave him a guarded skeptical look but to Blane’s profound satisfaction Steff shook his head in a _what the Hell_ kind of fashion and got in without further scrutiny. Steff looked tired which meant Blane would have an advantage in working on him.

 

 Can I ask you something, Steff?” Blane began as they drove through Orange. “Why’d you bail on all of us? I mean, it seemed like you disappeared for good after Amanda’s funeral.”

 

 _Ah shit, Blane. I see your asking while I’m sitting here trapped in a moving car. Very sneaky. Alright,_ **_fine_ ** _._

 

Steff sighed. “I did bail after Amanda’s funeral. It was either that or go on such hard bender that it might have killed me. Instead, I checked into detox and was then referred to a long term treatment facility at my request. Money can get a person pretty far when it comes to treating chemical dependency. It can get you care if not cure the disease.”

 

“Why’d you take it so hard? I guess I never realized you and Amanda were that close.” Blane commented.

 

“ **_We weren’t close._ ** I barely knew Amanda Trombley. The only reason she was friends with Benny was because Amanda was so naturally pretty and easy to get along with and Benny liked to use her when she wanted to feel charitable. Benny treated her like a pet of her social circle and I doubt Amanda really cared one way or another. She didn’t mind being part of the second string as long it meant that she had places to be other than home. Of course, when everyone graduated Benny cut her loose. And that was it. Amanda had nowhere to  hide anymore. She was too poor to get out and too insignificant to attract anyone’s attention. It was inevitable that she was destined to be a statistic. For one reason or another.” Steff rattled off steadily.

 

“What’s that supposed to mean? What was she hiding from?” Blane wasn’t following, he hadn’t known Amanda well either.

 

“Her father. The disreputable Frank Trombley. Drinker, wife beater, and kiddy rapist extraordinaire.” Steff bluntly muttered.

 

Blane began to break out in a cold sweat upon hearing such an accusation come out of Steff Mckee’s mouth.

 

“Steff, that’s a pretty major accusation there…Everyone knew Frank was a violent drinker but a child abuser?” Blane muttered weakly.

 

“It’s not an accusation. It’s a straight up fact. I know because Amanda told me about it towards the end more than once. It’s the reason she’s dead, man. After years off fending him off she fucking OD’d in order to avoid Frank finally getting what he wanted from her.” Steff continued in a testy manner.

 

“Steff...I’m sure Amanda’s death was just an accident. Your saying she killed herself.” Blane coaxed still unable to accept what Steff was saying.

 

“Who knows if that was her full intention. All I know is that the amount of Blow she did that night wasn’t a recreational amount. I don’t even fully understand how she got her hands on as much as she did of it. I can personally attest that cocaine isn’t exactly cheap. I guess it’s possible she could have saved it up over time or made some kind of deal with one of the dealers. I don’t know and it doesn’t matter.” Steff said covering his face with his hands and rubbing slowly.

 

“Steff you talk like you were there.” Blane was glad now they were nearing their destination point, his hands were starting to shake as he drove.

 

 **“** **_I was there_ ** _._ I did do drugs you know? Granted alcohol or pot was more my speed, but the product has to come from somewhere. There was this duplex out of town that was always being remodeled. It’s where everyone went for their shit or to walk on the wild side and slum a little with the deadheads.” Steff explained.

 

“Yeah that was the Dellings Duplex. The city condemned it and tore it down after Amanda died.” Blane revealed. “I can't believe you associated even in passing with a place like that.”

 

“I didn’t go out there very often. The place made my skin crawl.” Steff confessed. “I also never liked much of an audience when I got fucked up. The few times I did go, I noticed that Amanda was there sometimes. I figured out it was usually when she was fighting with Benny.” 

  


“What was she like when she was out there?” Blane asked.

 

“The same as ever. She always seemed fine. Upbeat. Happy. Just hanging out and shooting the shit with people there. Then one day she wasn’t laughing. She was crying and she saw me. I pretended like I hadn’t seen her but when I saw her again later I offered to drive her home. When she wouldn’t let me I convinced her to come out with me and took her up to the Bluff instead.” Steff remembered.

 

“The Bluff? Steff..” Blane protested.

 

“Get your **_mind_ ** out of the gutter, **boy scout**. Some people do more than just fuck around on the bluff, you know.” Steff spat petulantly.

 

“Not many.” Blane quipped under his breath.

 

“Whatever. The point is I took her and we talked and admired the view until she stopped crying. She told me then that she was afraid of Frank. That sometimes he’d get rough with her. Sandy used to intervene all the time, apparently. You might imagine how that went.” Steff said.

 

“Fuck.” Blane muttered pulling the car into park glad to be continuing this conversation while they were holding still.

 

“I asked her if he was hurting her in other ways and she said no. He only got at her when he was drinking and at that he only ever slapped her around. She said it usually didn’t last very long because Sandy would go toe to toe with him instead. I told her that he shouldn’t be touching her at all. I told her she should tell someone. A counselor, a teacher, **a cop** . But she brushed it all off. Insisting that Frank was still her father and she didn’t want to get hm in trouble. In a fucked up way she actually **_wanted_ ** to protect him. Later, I think she just wanted it all to go away.” Steff surmised.

 

"Jesus christ that's horrible. You know what? You win. I mean, lots of us had stuff going on the summer of graduation but...I didn't know." Blane muttered.

 

"Life isn't a competition. I'm quite amazed more people didn't know. But then again my father probably encouraged the investigators to keep a lid on the details. Since I was there when Amanda died, I was a primary witness." Steff explained.

 

"You actually watched Amanda Trombely die? What the fuck, Steff?" Blane was now staring at him with a screwed up look on his face.

 

"That's right, man. And it's not a fond memory for me so I'd really like to not talk about it." Steff muttered duly. "It was a fluke I was even there."

 

"What do you mean a fluke?" Blane asked.

 

"I was at home that day and got a phone call from _Eric._ He told me Amanda was there and that I should probably haul ass before something happened to her. So I went. But I didn't get there fast enough." Steff explained.

 

Eric was Janet's estranged older brother. Two years ahead of all of them. He was also the main supplier for half of Orange when it came to drugs in the 80's. Steff conveniently left out the exact words Eric had used though he remembered them exactly.

 

 _Hey, Richie Rich. I suggest you come on out here. I think your_ **_girlfriend_ ** _has gotten a little in over her head. Try to get here before she dies on my carpet. Ya? Overdoses are bad for business._

 

Although Steff hadn't been dating Amanda at the time he also hadnt been with Benny either at that point and since both Amanda and Steff had found themselves on the outs with Bernadette theystarted talking more and found things to have in common.

 

Steff sometimes wondered what might have happened if she'd lived through the overdose. 

 

Might he have played prince valiant and taken her away? Would his growing friendship with her have seeded a legitimate romance? There was no way to know. But at least Steff had done her one last kindness. He'd made sure she hadn't died alone and he made absolutely sure the right people knew exactly what kind of man her father Frank had been even if no one talked about it openly. 

 

Amanda Trombley had died in Steff's arms with him vigilantly trying to resuscitate her when she'd stopped breathing. Steff would never forget the wide eyed expression on her face as if death was taking her by surprise.

 

She'd known he was there in her obscure panic. 

 

Steff preferred to think she knew he had been trying to save her.

 

"Eric? Janet's brother? I guess I never realized he was part of that scene." Blane said.

 

"Eric wasn't just part of the scene. He _was_ the scene, at least out here. Total Club Kid wannabe." Steff said with a disgusted look on his face. 

 

This reference was beyond Blane who had been well insulated from the world growing up despite his early New Jersey upbringing.

 

"I swear. Did we even have the same childhood?" Blane muttered, trying to make a soft joke about his apparent ignorance in their final years of being minors.

 

"Same galaxy, Blane. Just different planets." Steff muttered. "So where is here and why did you drag me out here?"

 

"Since Amanda Trombley seemed to be in your thoughts today. I thought I'd show you where they moved her remains." Blane explained.

 

"You brought me to a cemetery? At this time of the evening?" Steff muttered.

 

"Yep. I don't know, it just felt right to me. I know you like to honor the dead. When Amanda  died Frank insisted she be buried. I guess Sandy had other preferences. I heard when she had her remains moved she had them cremated." Blane explained getting out of the car.

 

"How poetic of her. I'm sure she wanted to make sure her kid was truly free of her bodily coil." Steff scoffed but got out of the car and walked around it to stand with Blane in front of it.

 

They then walked together into the cemetery. 

 

While it was true that Steff did like to honor the dead being raised catholic, Blane's family had never been overly religious and once Blane had finished First communion his parents hadnt enforced any further participation outside of the major holidays.

 

Steff was thus surprised that Blane not only knew that Amanda had been moved but where the grave site specifically was. It was dark out. Ut there was still enough light saturation to be able to vaguely read the headstones they passed.

 

Amanda's ashes and been reburied in a neat flat green space a quarter of the way into the cemetery. There was a small modest gravestone well kept and glossy with her name and an embossed headshot picture her graduation day. She had her had flat over her cap and was grinning her large toothed grin. Steff grunted in the back of his throat and keeled down to look at it.

 

"There she is. What a waste." Steff muttered.

 

Blane hung back and let Steff do whatever he needed to do.

 

"Do you see your sister alot? Where is she buried?" Blane asked carefully.

 

"Ellenore is buried at Cherry Hill and I go see her as often as my conscience allows. They do a nice job there. I pay the maintenance company extra to keep flowers at the site although I may have to go back to doing it myself now." Steff remarked.

 

After that, the men fell silent for awhile until Steff eventually mouthed something appropriately religious under his breath and kissed the tip of his fingers and then touched them to Amanda's grave stone. He then stood back up.

 

"Ready?" Blane inquired.

 

"Yep." Steff muttered. 

 

In reality he would likely not come back to this particular cemetery. As far as Steff was concerned his connection to Amanda Trombley, although tragic was a thing of the past and only relevant anymore because it had been the pivot point that had turned Steff in the direction of sobriety. Nevertheless Steff was grateful to Blane for bringing him.

 

"Thank you for this." Steff muttered nonchalantly as they walked back. 

 

Steff wasn't looking at Blane directly when he said his thanks. It was an indication of just how uncharacteristic it was for Steff to thank anyone for anything.

 

"Oh. Yeah. Sure buddy. It's, yeah. It's fine. I'm glad you leveled with me. Lots...lots of good information. Good share." Blane wasn't used to being in a position of leadership or care regarding Steff, so he just bumbled his way through it.

 

Steff didn't say anything. He just shoved his fists into his tan suit pockets and continued walking though an ever so slight smile of amusement was set upon his pressed lips at Blane's awkwardness regarding the business.

 

Some things never changed.

 

The drive back was quiet and introspective as both men thought about things from their individual perspectives. When Blane pulled back up to the street where Steff lived both got out of the car one last time.

 

"Well. Same Bat time, same Bat place tomarrow?" Blane asked making a campy Batman reference from their childhood.

 

"Yeah. Although I have to pick up Ellie tomorrow and take care of something. In order to get Bernadette on board as head manager I promised her an advance on her pay that I don't have. " Steff said out of the side.

 

"Bernadette...Who?" The name didnt click with Blane immediately.

 

"Bernadette Hanson." Steff muttered realizing seconds later he was probably the only one who knew Benny's christian name. "I'm talking about **_Benny_ **, Genius. Before Benny's father broke off into ponsy realestate he was a resterainture. Benny and her brother were raised in the industry. Christ. DId you ever pay attention in homeroom?"

 

"Sure. But only to the people I liked. I never liked Benny Hanson. I know you dated her all of senior year but I personally never saw the appeal." Blane admitted dismissively.

 

_Right back at you, pal._

 

Steff thought the words but had learned enough self restraint not to say them. 

 

"The commonality at the time between Benny Hanson and I was the almighty orgasm. Nothing more. In her case it was the novelty of the thing and in mine it was a slow drip of occasional morphine." Steff shrugged unable to clarify that he'd been in pain in exact words.

 

"Morphine, huh?" Blane considered the implications of this.

 

He understood that Steff had lost his sister. It was reasonable that was the pain he was referring to even if Nora had been gone some time by then. Or was it? Blane wasn't quite sure. 

 

"That's what I said. Benny was an eager lay. A thirsty virgin looking to get her kicks. She practically threw herself at me, so I indulged her for awhile. That's all it was." Steff reiterated. "And anyway you were never obligated or invited to approve or disapprove of the people I dated. It's not like I took my relationships very seriously back then. It was highschool." Steff Shrugged as they walked together to his door.

 

"Right. Sure, Steff. Sure, man. No one took anything seriously in high school." Blane agreed.

 

 **_Some of us did_ ** _. Andie Walsh took highschool seriously. She took_ **_you_ ** _seriously not that it got her very far. Maybe if I had the same privileges you enjoyed and wasted...I might have taken things_ **_very seriously_ ** _too back then._

 

"I'm going to go up. It's getting late and I've got a lot on my plate tomorrow. Blane, if you're free  in the early morning, why don't you meet me at my folks place? Give me a little moral support while I ensure Benny gets exactly what I promised her."  Steff requested cryptically.

 

"In the morning?"Blane mused. "I think that can be arranged."

 

"Good. I appreciate it man. Good night." Steff pulled Blane criss cross into himself so they bumped chests and he then clapped Blane on the back.

 

"See you tomorrow, Blane. Oh and, good talk." Steff sardonically muttered.

 

This show of masculine affection caught Blane by surprise but in the end we went with it.

 

"Yeah. Good talk." He repeated with less certainty.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: This chapter contains adult sexual content.
> 
> Also sorry it took so long to get this update. I've been scribbling bits of this down on napkins during my work breaks for the last few months. Enjoy!

Steff's night turned out to be a restless ordeal. 

 

Initially, when Blane had finally left for the evening Steff went up into his now furnished apartment and fell into his bed dropping shortly into a heavy sleep. His rest was short-lived however when just a few hours later he awoke to a mild headache and a dreadfully obscure achiness that implied his body was planning to have a meltdown on him in the near future.

 

_ Great. Look what playing in the rain did for you, hero. Getting sick is all I need right now. _

 

Annoyed by the prospect Steff forced himself to get up and padded into his kitchen in search of some aspirin, a multivitamin, and an antihistamine which he chased with a glass of orange juice. He then returned to his room and stripped down before going into the second smaller bathroom of the master bedroom to take a long hot shower.

 

_ I know I can conquer this. I  _ **_will not_ ** _ get sick.  _

 

It was a determined but ultimately powerless command on Steff’s part.

 

Steff started up the spray and waited for it to warm eventually stepping into the spray and turning up the heat as hot as he could tolerate.

 

Maybe it was the probable circumstances of his impending head cold or maybe it was the steady sound of the shower running that made Steff's mind once again wander in the direction of Andie Walsh.

 

Steff still had not allowed himself time to process the night he'd found her literally huddled at his doorstep. It had been a shock to see her of all people leading Steff to believe that the universe had a twisted and ironic sense of humor.

 

Under no other circumstances could Steff have imagined he would ever have willingly engaged Andie again let alone brought her into his personal space and entertained her. When she had rejected him all those years ago, Steff had labeled Andie as poison. 

 

His blatant objection to her though had less to do with a true dislike of her after the fact and everything to do with how obnoxiously distracting she was for him in general.

 

Against his sense of tight control, Steff had never been able to ignore Andie's presence in his general vicinity and the worst part was he didn't understand why she always blipped on his radar of exterior awareness so strongly.

 

For three out of the four years they'd attended school together Steff had gone above and beyond to try and ignore Andie Walsh. For her own part, Andie was only vaguely aware of Steff which had suited him just fine most of the time. He could appreciate that he was just a known popular figure in her world. A figure of no particular importance or meaning to her in particular.

 

Something had changed the summer before senior year. 

 

That summer, oblivious to everyone else including Andie, Steff couldn't seem to get away from her. They just started being in the same vicinity far more than ever before. Steff noticed. He couldn't not notice this increase in proximity. And for once it constantly annoyed him that Andie never realized he was there.

 

"How the fuck could anyone be that oblivious," Steff muttered to himself as he began a familiar conversation out loud.

 

That was how Steff liked to reason out things. 

 

_ Don't get excited, Duckie Dale was clearly in love with her all through high school and he never made any traction with her either. _

 

"Philip the Duckman Dale. Jesus…" Steff sighed rubbing hard at his chin and mouth were Duckie had popped him. 

 

Steff had a scar on the inner part of his mouth over that encounter.

 

"I will never understand what possessed him to come at me like that," Steff muttered through his fingers and the hot spray. "I wasn't the one who wronged her that day, yet I'm the one that he hit. Fucking assinine." 

 

_ Maybe it wasn't really about Andy Walsh at all. Maybe he hit you for his own fucking reasons and his protective instincts over Andie were just an excuse. _

Dismissing this line of thought Steff tried to relax. He tried to let everything go. An utter mistake in hindsight. 

 

Even under the hot spray of water Steff's joints dully ached and his head lightly swam. But the temperature was hot enough and the spray firm enough to offer some small distraction. Enough to allow his mind to drift.

 

In a few hours, he understood that he'd be a full-time father again. While Steff was more than ready to resume his full parenting responsibilities and badly wanted to, he also had to face the reality that now that Chelsea had lost shared custody and also given up her visitation rights the only additional support Steff had was his parents. He was now on his own.

 

_ You were on your own before with Ellie. The only difference now is that people know about it. _

 

The thought was soothing enough. Steff felt himself let his worry go. At least regarding his daughter. 

 

Steff rubbed at the muscles around his torso and joints. His shoulders, his neck, down the back of his rib cage, to the hollow of his lower spine. 

 

Hugging himself Steff allowed a simple fantasy to form.

 

Steff McKee's erotic fantasies were always abstract in nature. It was not his preference to fixate on any particular person real or imagined. He cared only for the cerebral self-indulgence involved. In this specific instance perhaps because he felt strained and unwell, Steff imagined a calm nurturing energy envelop him. This presence pressed him to it smoothing his hair and murmuring soundless things into his ear. Things no one of his actual intimate and romantic acquaintance had ever said to him.

 

Steff groaned and turned under the stream bracing his back and buttox into the side of the shower.

 

In his fantasy, a second faceless formless presence emerged behind him in his mind's eye sandwiching Steff into a firm sensual cocoon that felt safe and familiar. Steff edged out his arousal for as long as possible. So long that the water began to turn tepid. 

 

The change in sensation caused Steff to frown distractedly.

 

 Just then, the sound and the temperature of the shower reminded him of how he'd come upon Andie Walsh drenched and crying and how she'd felt against him when, panicked,  he’d hastily scooped her up into his arms and brought her upstairs. And then suddenly the mouth he imagined pressed against his throat became the bee-stung lips of Andie.

 

A sharp huff sounded in the back of Steff's throat as he nearly came. Steff praised for a second refusing to credit the memory of Andie Walsh with his heightened sensitivity. Quickly he banished her from his inner eye.

 

 Flipping himself over Steff pressed and ground himself into the shower wall. Spinning his fantasy away down another mentally erotic corridor. But try as he might to remain impartial for once his mind was occupied by the memory of past lovers. Of his ex-wife, of Benny, of even Amanda's laughing face. 

 

Steff frowned more deeply spinning his mental Rolodex at a rapid interval as he struggled to settle on any one idea that wasn't centered on someone that he knew. He could feel his mind wanting to discuss Andie Walsh and refused the impulse.

 

"Get her **out** of your head." He demanded out loud. "Jesus. You'd think I turned into Blane now."

 

Steff found a small part of him wonder at Blane. Had Blane been haunted by Andie Walsh? When he saw her from afar? When he hadn't been able to be with her had it unsettled him? Steff highly doubted it. He and Blane were nothing alike when it came to dealing with matters of the heart.

 

_ What about me, Blane? Did my absence move you to distraction? What happened in Rome that you don't want to talk about? _

 

His mind changed course again shifting down another corridor, this one much longer than the rest. At the end of it was a figurative door that Steff wouldn't approach. It just remained glowing in the distance. Pulsing.

 

**Damn it, Blane.**

  
  


Sighing in a tired and defeated manner, Steff gave up on trying to reign his subconscious in and instead focused entirely on the distant door within his mind boring into it with his focus until he finally came.

 

~@~

 

Blane arrived back at Steff’s at half-past six in the morning. When he pulled up Blane noticed Steff waiting for him outside. For once Steff wasn’t in a suit.

 

 Instead, he was wearing well fitted and impeccably maintained blue jeans, a mustard turtleneck of fine quality, and a leather jacket. 

 

Although he and Blane had once been the epitome of preppy affluence, Steff’s wardrobe, in reality, was rather eclectic and was directly influenced by both his interest in music and his appreciation for European styles which were always more forward than what was happening in the United States. It was really only during school that Steff played into the preppy style that was expected of someone of his pedigree. 

 

At the moment, Steff had a decidedly rock and roll edginess to him. Blane had to admit he secretly admired Steff for his sense of style. Blane had often felt that the 'rebel without a cause' look suited Steff Mckee the best.

 

Along with his blue jeans and leather Steff was also sporting Top Gun style aviator sunglasses and a cream-colored cravat was knotted with great care around his neck, His look and choice of accessories gave Blane the impression that Steff was perhaps sick. Most of the time when he’d sported those particular shades in the past they had been to compensate for a headache and to cover up the dark circles of a hangover. Blane knew though that in the now Steff was serious about his sobriety so that left only illness as the logical reality.

 

“Rough night?” Blane chirped getting out of his car to meet Steff on the sidewalk.

 

“Yeah. Want to do me a favor and drive? I’m tired as Hell. We can take my car.” Steff muttered throwing his keys at Blane.

 

“You’re letting someone else drive your Firebird? You really must be sick.” Blane muttered catching the keys to Steff’s white 1991 Pontiac Firebird Convertible.

 

“If you so much as scratch it, I’ll disown you as my friend. Let’s go before I come to my senses.” Steff quipped. 

 

Blane and Steff drove in silence for the first twenty minutes of their trip. Steff was legitimately tired and looked a bit green about the gills so Blane left him alone to rest his eyes.

 

"You have something you want to talk about?" Steff muttered a short time later.

 

“What?” Blane asked.

 

 "You keep staring at me, Blane. I can feel it. Every time you do it the car veers slightly. Why don't you try to keep your eyes on the road. Yeah? I like this car and my life. Thanks."

 

"Sorry. I was just thinking to myself. " Blane mused.

 

"Oh well _ do _ share your fascinating thoughts," Steff muttered with his eyes still closed.

 

"It’s that outfit you’re wearing. I think it’s a good look on you. You should go out in it more often." Blane commented.

 

Steff slowly opened his eyes and cocked his head to the side. “This? Well, thank you, Sweetheart. You look pretty today too.”

 

“Get serious,” Blane muttered shaking his head.

 

“So you like me edgy, huh? You know, if you knew me better you’d know what this get-up was an indication of.” Steff muttered.

 

“Oh. You mean how you wear turtlenecks and leather-like armor when you don’t feel well or when you feel otherwise vulnerable? Yeah. No. That’s never been lost on me. I’ve known you for a long time, Steff. I may not always understand your motives but I do  _ know you _ . All I’m saying is it’s nice to see this side of you once in a while. It makes you seem more…” Blane took his time picking his words.

 

“Humane?” Steff offered before stretching and yawning.

 

“I was thinking it makes you seem more  _ approachable _ . You know maybe you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself all the time.” Blane suggested.

 

“Hm.  **Maybe** I need to stop letting you drive us places. I feel like every time I slip into a passenger seat next to you lately it becomes a makeshift therapy session.” Steff remarked.

 

“Been to one lately?” Blane asked bluntly.

 

Steff ignored this question.

 

“OK. Why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind, Blane.” At this steff peeled off his shades and tucked them into his jacket sleeve.

 

“Alright. I’m worried about you. I feel like ending your marriage, going through with the Kitten Club, and taking on your kid is a lot to handle by yourself all at once and although I know this is the stuff you have to do, I worry about you trying to do it alone. As your friend, I worry.”

 

“Yeah. Janie gave me the same line awhile back before everything with the ex was finalized. I appreciate your concern. Really, I do. But I don’t understand what everyone expects me to do about it. Recovering from a failed marriage is hard for anyone and yeah I have Ellie in the mix too and that makes it harder because her happiness and well being is my complete responsibility, but this is my life. This is where my choices have led me to. It is what it is.” Steff rambled flatly.

 

“I know it’s just…” Blane began.

 

Steff cut him off.

 

“I need you to let me do all of this my way, Blane. I get that you want to be helpful and supportive. You’re being both of those things. Trust me. But I’m begging you not to internalize my problems. The best thing you or anyone who cares about me can do is to take care of yourselves and keep me in the loop. If I need something I’ll ask for it. I’m not about to risk alienating my friends by allowing them to fight my battles for me. Everyone’s got their own problems. Their own pain and bullshit they’re trying to work through. So take care of you. OK?” Steff encouraged him.

 

“Sure, Steff. OK.” Blane had been planning to say something else but when Steff cut him off he let what he had been planning to say go.

 

_ Damn. He so stubborn.  _ Blane thought.

 

When they got within thirty minutes of Steff's parents' place, Blane was directed to veer off down a countryside road. Eventually, they turned off again this time onto what seemed to be private property. 

 

"Pull up over there." Steff indicated. 

 

Blane did what he was told and pulled up near a mental roofed rambler. 

 

"Hey, YOU. State your business." From the porch of the rambler an elder man called to them.

 

Blane noted that he looked to be about sixty.

 

"It's Steff McKee, Reg. Not that I have to tell you that. I know your not that blind." Steff said climbing out of the passenger seat.

 

"Maybe I am and maybe I ain't. But that ain't none oh your concern." In spite of his tone, a sly smile curled on the man's face.

 

Steff mimicked the expression.

 

"Blane meet Mr. Reginald Wilson. You might not know it looking at him now but thirty years ago he was the best damn mechanic in within five counties. Reg this is my friend Blane. He'll be witnessing our little transaction." Steff indicated.

 

"So you're really going through with it." It was a bald statement, not a question. "Regina's been waiting a long time for this."

 

"Maybe she knew the score better than any of us," Steff replied cryptically. 

 

"My girl never was one for short-sightedness. She gets that from me. Well? Go on into the house and wait for her. You know where everything is." Reg muttered dismissively.

 

"Right. Come on." He said to Blane as Steff headed for the house.

 

"What's all this about, Steff? How do you know that guy?" Blane asked once they were inside.

 

"Reg is an old family friend. Don't worry about it. He and I go back almost as far as you and I do. So chill. Coffee?" Steff did indeed know his way around the kitchen and parlor they'd walked into and had begun fetching down mugs.

 

"Sure," Blane muttered distractedly as he slipped into a chair.

 

"This shouldn't take very long. Most of the details have been pre-arranged. I'm just here to sign off on the handoff." Steff muttered.

 

"Handoff of what? To who?" Blane questioned.

 

Before Steff could elaborate if he had intended to elaborate at all, the sound of a motorcycle came within earshot.

 

"Right on cue." Steff mused.

 

Seconds later the revving stopped and Steff lazily slipped back onto the porch to pass a mug off coffee to Reg.

 

"That's my baby girl. Always making an entrance." Reg muttered with a chuckle.

 

Reg's pride was well warranted. 

 

At twenty-four Regina "Reggie" Wilson was a college graduate with a degree in art history from Berkley. She was a well known up and coming conceptual artist by day and one of the best street racers in her age bracket. Her father was indeed proud given that he held his own claim to fame in the mainstream racing community as a mechanic and pit crew manager. 

 

Blane remained in the doorway watching with some discomfort given that he had no real taste for or understanding of the world Reg and his daughter were apart of. Blane watched as the young woman swung off her bike. Her features completely hidden by the leathers and helmet she wore. The motorcycle she'd arrived on seemed to be a modified thing that Blane knew nothing about other than knowing on instinct that it was built for speed and whip like control.

 

Pulling off her helmet produced an explosion of thick glossy ringlets of caramel hair to spread and bounce.

 

“Well look at you,” Regina said as she walked towards Steff. “Finally decided to come back down to earth.  You look a little like the ride back down did a number on you.”

 

“It did. But I had it coming to me. Steff muttered a half-smile was quirked on his face as he stayed where he was and sipped at his tea.

 

“Am I actually allowed to hug you or are you going to break on me if I do?” Regina questioned, propping one hand on her hip as she dangled her helmet at her side.

 

“For the briefest of moments, Steff considered the possibility but then dismissed it. “Well, I won’t break. At least I don’t think. I guess we’ll just have to take our chances.”

 

Regina chuckled freely. Her generous lips parting to reveal two rows of pristine white teeth. 

 

“Come on. Come to Baby.” Regina put her helmet down and opened her arms wide flicking the tops of her fingers in a gesture that said get  _ over here stupid _ .

 

“Baby?” Blane nearly choked on his coffee.

 

Steff ignored Blane and set his own cup on the wood banister of the porch before he stepped down and come to meet Regina in an embrace.

 

Once he was in proper pouncing distance. Regina suddenly squealed like a happy school girl and jumped into his arms. “I can’t believe your selling. Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this day? It’s better than Christmas.”

 

Steff smirked and caught her spinning Reggie once and then setting her back down. “Yeah, yeah. Calm down. You still have to win if you want it for yourself. Although since I know there isn’t any doubt about that, I almost feel bad for the buyer.”

 

“Yeah he thinks he’s being real slick but no one knows that car like I do. You might have built it Steff, but I’ve kept it primed all these years.” Reggie muttered.”It’s time now to let it live its life.”

 

At this point, Blane cleared his throat and then colored awkwardly when everyone turned to look at him as if he’d interrupted something.

 

“Steff, the time. If you want to get to your parents before Elie wakes up we should probably leave soon.” Blane said quietly.

 

“Sure, Buddy. We’re almost done here.”

 

Reggie stepped back from Steff and eyed Blane appraisingly. Her instincts told her that she was looking at the kind of yuppy white boy that had hardly ever been near colored folks let alone talked to one.

 

“You got a name, Milk Toast?” Reggie muttered.

 

“Yeah I do and it’s not that,” Blane said in a polite but firm tone.

 

“Does he belong to you?” Reggie inquired shifting her focus back to Steff.

 

“Play nice Reggie. Blane is helping me today with some things.” Steff warned her lightly.

Reggie respected Steff enough to catch a hint. “He’s cute.” 

 

Steff narrowed his eyes at her ever so slightly. 

 

“Blane, meet Regina ‘Reggie’ Wilson. Reggie meet Blane. Blane is a lifelong friend of mine. Reggie used to be the snot-nosed brat I used to sit for in the summers.” Steff said in his fluid clipped fashion.

 

“Sat for my ass. You’re what? Four years older than me? If anything I looked after you when you were playing in my daddy’s garage those three summers. Look, why don’t you take your friend there outback. I’ll wait here for you to pull the Green Monster up. Might as well drive her at least once. It’s a travesty you never did all these years.” Reggie insisted.

 

“That’s alright. I like cars well enough. But what I did here was never meant for me.” Steff replied.

 

“That may be true. But sooner or later Steff, you’re going to find something that sticks. Once you do you’ll never be able to get it out of your blood. You can’t evade living forever and once you finally start you’ll never stop. I know you won’t.” Reggie said quietly enough so that her father and Blane couldn’t clearly make out what she was saying.

 

“Yeah. Here’s to life, Reggie. I’ll let you know when I start living.” He remarked just as quietly.

 

“Boy, you won't have to. It’ll be obvious all on its own. I can wait.” At that, she left things looking up at her pop whom she was named after. “Come on, Daddy. Let’s get on into the house. It’s hot out here.”

 

When Blane got back in the car at Steff’s urging he didn’t say anything. He simply slumped into the passenger seat and crossed his arms.

 

Steff followed and glanced evenly at him starting up the car and slamming the driver side door shut. “What?”

 

Blane narrowed his eyes at Steff debating whether he even wanted to go into things with him just then.

 

“If your pissed about Reggie my recommendation is to just ignore her,” Steff advised, hoping to prompt Blane to talk to him without having to encourage him directly.

 

“Who are you, Steff? I used to think I knew but now I’m not so sure.” Blane said in a quiet misty tone.”When we were kids I thought for sure we told each other everything but you never told me about the Wilsons or working on some car out here. I know we had a falling out for a while but it’s kind of bewildering how there seems to be so much I never knew about you.” Blane mused.

Steff didn’t reply to this immediately. He sighed and started the car. “I know what you mean.”

 

A few minutes later Steff parked outside of a large pole barn. It was an old building but had been kept in good repair. Steff got out of the car and stalked to the side door which was locked with a heavy number lock. Steff carefully dialed in the combination and unlocked the door slipped into the darkened barn and then opened the garage door from the other side. Inside was what appeared to be a vehicle under a large tarp obscuring any more detail outside of the bottom of its four wheels. 

 

When everything was opened up he came to stand beside Blane and huffed. “Well? You want to do the honors and see what all the fuss was about?” Steff inquired.

 

Blane set his jaw and didn’t say anything. Instead, he simply walked up to the front of the car and took up the edge of the trap and began to pull and walk backward. When he finally caught a glimpse of what was lurking under the trap he audibly gasped.

 

“Beautiful isn’t it? What your looking at Blane is a 1967 Plymouth Roadrunner Pro Touring model. I rebuilt her from the ground up. It’s about the only meaningful investment in my hobbies my father ever forked over. Not that he ever bothered to see it for himself. Reg went all the way to a little podunk town in Pennsylvania to get the clean version for me to work on. Everything is rebuilt from the engine right on through. Reg helped me along with it. All in all, it took three years to complete. Unless Reggie took it out more than she should have it should have less than 5,000 miles on her. Cars like this need to be driven now and again for their health.” Steff explained as he leaned against the side of the garage mouth.

 

“Holy fuck. Did you build this? You?” Blane may not have known shit about classic cars but he knew what he was looking at was something special.

 

“Yep. It was a sweet sixteen present. I worked on and off on it from the time I was sixteen till the summer of graduation. Then that was that. I finished it and forgot about it.” Steff said flatly.

 

“You never told anyone about it. Why?” Blane asked.

 

“Why would I? Who would have cared? Everyone would have assumed it was just some flashy graduation present. No one would have believed I had built it myself.” Steff pointed out. 

 

“I would have believed you. All your real friends would have.” Blane muttered still caught up in wonder as he slowly walked around the metallic green Roadrunner. It looked brand new. It looked perfect.

 

“As I recall you and I weren’t exactly on speaking terms during this period. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. It’s just a thing, Blane. Just one more passing distraction. It doesn’t mean anything to me.” Steff said evenly.

A thought occurred to Blane then.

 

Well,  it was less of a thought and more of a hypothesis he’s been slowly developing about Steff since they’d become friends again. 

 

It occurred to Blane that Steff Mcgee was embarrassed by his own talents. So embarrassed that he felt the need to hide them from the outside world like some people hid their bad habits and unseemly life decisions. Yet if he didn’t care about the care why had Steff paid to store it all this time? Why had he held onto it at all? Of these question, Blane had yet to form a satisfactory answer to. 

 

“So you’re selling it just like that?” Blane asked redundantly.

 

“Yeah. Just like that. I may not need this car but I do happen to need the money I’ll get for it. Not to mention that other people need the money too. Reg’s cut, for example, will be enough to pay for cataract surgery. He’s going blind see and up until now, he wouldn’t let anyone pay for it. Regina tried. He’s an honest type that believes in earning what he gets. Luckily, I saw to it years ago that if I ever got around to selling this thing he’d get a kickback for every year I stored it on top of the yearly payments for the storage space. He’ll take that money because he came by it honestly and since he’s got nothing else to spend it on he’ll pay for the surgery he needs to spare his sight. Everyone wins.” Steff explained.

 

“You could have made a living doing this,” Blane remarked.

 

“You’re right. I could have.” Steff flashed him a tight-lipped smile that showed no humor and shoved his fits into his leather jacket. “But some things in life are only meant to be done once. This is one of those things.”

 

“Oh yeah? What are some others?” Blane found himself asking before he thought better of it.

 

Blane watched an answer form on Steff’s face but whatever it was he didn’t voice it much to Blane’s relief. Whatever Steff had thought to say, Blane realized it was better not to know it.


	11. Chapter 11

For awhile, Steff took some time to explain the finer highlights that had gone into the rebuild he'd done. Blane, who didn’t much care for the topic, listened and looked at what Steff pointed out even if he was privately grateful that Steff kept his terms simple and to the point. This allowed Blane the ability to follow along and fully appreciate how special the Roadrunner was. 

 

Clearly, it had taken a deft amount of talent, resources, and interest to transform the car into the masterpiece that it was today.

 

As he listened and followed along, Blane considered with some fascination that Steff Mckee had an artist's heart. 

 

The more he saw of the adult Steff the more he felt that if one stripped away everything else about him, Steff's precision and artistry would remain. It was likely that Steff Mckee had always been like this yet Blane had hardly noticed its manifestation in his high school years.

 

Soon they went back to the house and everyone settled around the Wilson's dining table. 

 

Soon after, Regina and Steff went about the business of exchanging paperwork and the finalization details of the sale while Reg and Blane made small talk over Blane's line of work and what he was helping Steff with.

 

As they all talked,  now and then Blane would look around and catch Regina watching him. Usually, it was nothing more than a prolonged glance. Nevertheless, it made Blane feel uncomfortable though he couldn't name why.

 

"OK.So as soon as the point of delivery is reached I'll wire you the twenty-five grand. Sound good?" Regina said at last.

 

"Monday morning." Steff stipulated.

 

"Monday morning." Regina agreed.

 

"Fine." Steff nodded and the deal was finalized with Blane and Reg as witnesses.

 

Once their business was concluded Steff indicated to Blane that they could take off and everyone piled outside with Reg rambling back to his porch post and Regina making a direct line to her bike. She no doubt wanted to get on with her errands as quickly as possible.

 

"You let me know when the grand opening to your club is. I can't wait to see your handiwork on a large scale. Both of your handiwork." Regina corrected, ensuring to include Blane who she understood was a key contributor in the design process.

 

"Damn right he going to let us know and he's going to play for us too while he's at it," Reg added with a self-indulgent smirk from the porch.

 

"Well if you both show up I will certainly think about it," Steff remarked in a  noncommital tone.

 

To Blane, his agreement sounded insincere but to the Wilsons, it was a promise they would hold him to if they could.

 

This time when Blane and Steff got back into the car Steff was the one driving once more. He looked better. More awake. But still strained. Like his headache hasn't gone away and he was planning to ignore it.

 

"So." Blane chirped once they were on their way again. "You know the Wilsons because…"

 

"Reg was a client of my father's some decades back. His mother was a housekeeper for my grandparents. In the 70's Reg was accused of sabotaging a Grand Prix racing car that was in qualifying opposition to his own team's car. My father agreed to represent him and was able to prove that the other driver sabotaged his own car and staged the scene to implicate Reg in order to get them disqualified and barred from the sport. Total bullshit bigotry." Steff explained.

 

Blane often forgot that Steff’s father was a bigtime lawyer. Considering Steff's parents had rarely been around growing up it was easier to imagine Steff as a kind of lone orphan prince living in the Mckee house like an independent citizen. 

 

"When Nora died," Steff hid his pause with a swallow. "My father in his infinite sensitivity thought I needed a constructive hobby to ease my ills. Of course, far be it from him to spend time watching over me himself. Instead, Reg looked out for me instead. All in all, I've always thought it was one of my father's better attempts at familial altruism during a crisis."

 

“Sure. I guess.” Blane agreed politely.

 

"The Wilsons are good people. Real people." Steff muttered nearly under his breath.

 

"Yeah. They...They seem nice." Blane remarked with no real feeling behind it.

 

Steff heard Blane’s meek tonality and squinted as he watched the road.

 

"Yeah. They _ are _ ." Steff reiterated in a testy tone.

 

"Although, that white toast crack wasn't amusing," Blane muttered.

 

At this moody remark, a smile of random amusement suddenly curled upon Steff’s face.

 

"Oh yeah? Why Blane, I never knew you were so sensitive." Steff quipped, his mood suddenly shifting from annoyance to a teasing air. 

 

"What? Are you telling me you found her choice of phrasing to be  _ cute _ ?" Blane said incredulously.

 

"Not _ cute _ . Just very perceptive. Reggie can read people better than anyone else I know. Her problem is she doesn't hold back about her observations. What exactly are you pissed about?" Steff inquired.

 

"It just came off like a slur," Blane admitted crossing his arms.

 

"As in a _ racial slur _ ? Oh, Christ. You know...You really need to get out more, Blane. Jesus." Steff muttered in a disbelieving fashion. "If anything she was putting down your **character** , not the color of your skin you lame brain."

 

"Milk toast isn’t a racial slur?" Blane inquired meekly.

 

"Even if it could be used that way,  that’s not what Reggie was referring to," Steff explained. " _ Milquetoast, _ in this instance, means she thinks your the timid spineless type.”

 

“Oh. Well isn’t that just great. She doesn’t even know me. How would she know the kind of person I am?” Blane argued.

 

“You’re right. She doesn’t know you. So stop taking it so personally.” Steff said in a flat manner. 

 

“Do you honestly see me that way?” Blane inquired.

 

This was not the conversation Steff wanted to get into right now. His head still hurt and his chest in spite of his best efforts was starting to tighten and feel thick. 

 

“Well you’re certainly not Mr. Assertive. You’re not a commanding person. You never have been. Not casually, anyway. But who gives a fuck, right?” Steff was trying to head off a confrontation.

 

“Spineless…” Blane repeated quietly, shaking his head.

 

“Would you let it go. Look. Let’s be real here. There were plenty of times when we were young when you didn’t stand up for yourself or when you looked to other people to lead you places. Junior Prep School comes to mind and your college years.” Steff neglected to bring up the business with Andie Walsh during prom season of the senior year even though it was probably the most remarkable incident he could have used to further his point, but for his own personal reason’s steff refrained and defended Blane instead.

 

“But, Blane. Being spineless is not the same thing as being a coward. I’d take the one over the other any day.” Steff remarked.

 

Blane wrinkled his nose. He didn’t really see the difference between the terms and remarked on the differentiation according to Steff. 

 

Steff sighed audibly and tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

 

“You’ve been spineless because you abhor confrontation and so you let things happen that don’t generally correlate to what you really want. But being able and willing to put up with the consequences of things also proves you're not a coward. You stand by and endure the fallout of the choices you make as they come. Your willingness to stand up and take things is what makes the difference. If you couldn’t we wouldn't be capable of being friends.” Steff explained.

 

As he said this, Steff felt the familiar urge to escape. It wasn’t so much a reaction to the events of now, but a throwback to a time in his life when Steff had done nothing but slink back into the shadows every time conflict arose. All conflict. Direct and indirect alike.

 

_ I was a coward. Even you were smart enough to see that much in the end, Blane.  _

 

This avoidance hadn’t stopped him by any means with his prodding interferences in the discourse of his friends and family’s lives, however. Steff had been the one, after all, to intentionally poison Blane and Andie’s relationship long before it had gotten remotely off the ground. Had Steff never intervened in their relationship those many years ago, or had he intervened to Blane’s benefit as Steff had done in the past, there was a real possibility that Blane might have found whatever strength was necessary to live up to Andie’s expectations of him. 

 

But Steff had not been a supportive friend and had blatantly disapproved of the pairing publicly and privately on numerous occasions. Had he been a little more broad-minded about the union, had he been the proper friend Blane had needed back then; Steff knew he could have made the tipping difference for them. That was the strength of his influence over Blane and it was also the source of Blane's resentment of him.

 

In the now, Steff wanted to believe that the man he'd become would have, at the very least, refrained from sabotaging his friend’s happiness even if he might have still avoided helping it along.

 

 However, Steff Mckee did not think so highly of himself even now, to believe he would have openly encouraged Blane to pursue Andie Walsh at any point past or current. Steff had truly believed they were not properly suited for each other and that anything Blane and Andie might have tried to achieve would have amounted to nothing more than a grand farce of poor judgment and bumbling mediocrity. 

 

There had been other reasons. Personal reasons for his interference in his schoolmates' affairs. But Steff McKee had never once alluded to their existence nor did he ever plan to reveal his secret of secrets.

 

Contempt had never been a good look on Steff. His secrets aside, simple contempt was what had motivated him most to gum up the works for Blane when they were teenagers. Blane quite simply hadn’t been good enough for Andie Walsh and while Steff sure as shit might not have been much of a better choice, he, at least, had known it and not pushed his bad luck any father than her initial flat rejection of him.

 

Blane allowed himself time to absorb Steff’s perspective. As always it was deeper than Blane might have been capable of going on his own and so it was hard to tell if Steff was right or not about the subject. Nevertheless, Blane considered it was the kindest thing Steff had ever said to him.

 

“Thanks,” Blane muttered.

 

“Yeah. Don’t mention it.  _ Ever _ .” Steff replied bluntly meaning every word.

 

~@~

 

Andie Walsh had been in a distracted haze all week. As a result, work was slower getting done and Andie used her need to catch up as an excuse to stay in more than she normally would have. 

 

For the most part, no one hassled Andie about this. As much as Duckie might have liked to pester her, he was busy organizing the Duckette’s next road trip. Iona too left Andie alone suspecting that the younger woman was working out more than just her latest designs. There was, however, one set of people Andie couldn’t beg off of or ignore.

 

“Oh, darling you must come to the barbecue. I’m making all your favorite things.” Louise insisted over the phone that Saturday morning when she’d called to gel up the details of when Andie had been planning to arrive.

 

“Alright, I still have a lot of work to catch up on but I suppose I can stop by. Is three, OK?” Andie bargained as she compared shades of fuchsia and grape from the samples that had come in.

 

“Sweetheartheart of course. Anytime. Just as long as you come. It’s been far too long since your father and I have seen you.” Louise said in here demure jaunty fashion.

 

“OK. I’ll be there. But I can only stay for a little while and then I need to come back to the shop and take care of some things.” Andie insisted as she absently bit her lower lip.

 

It was annoying to break her stride now after she’d just begun to focus again and get something productive accomplished, but Louise was right. It had been a while since she’d stopped by and Andie knew once she was at her father’s she wouldn’t regret it.

 

 Planning to run home and change first, Andie grabbed up her keys and headed for the door out of the small and cramped workroom when she accidentally caught a side table with her hip causing a few of the folded contents to waiver and begin to slip off the edge. Andie caught them awkwardly by practically shoving them back up onto the table with her chest making sure to not topple anything else as she was apt to do in such tight quarters.

 

 As she nearly face-planted into the tabletop she suddenly got a whiff of sandalwood and chamomile up her nose. It was the clothes she’d been meaning to return to Steff Mckee. Andie had washed them and brought them to work eventually intending to take them back to him. But some kind of construction had begun over on Craig’s street and so Andie had held back, not wanting to disturb Steff over something so frivolous as returning a few clothes. 

 

That's what she told herself anyway when she tried to justify what she was waiting for. Andie supposed she could have just dropped them at his door and gone on her way but doing so wouldn’t have been polite. Andie wanted to give them back to him personally. She wanted a reason to speak to him again and thank him for what he’d done for her. Andie might have gone over right then and there, but when she’d come to work that morning she’d noticed Steff’s Firebird wasn’t parked on the street. Clearly this meant he wasn’t at home.

 

Andie sighed and leaving the clothes once more where she’d put them for another day, she headed home to shower and change.

 

An hour and a half later, Andie was met in the driveway of her childhood home by Louise Pruit.

 

Louise was a buxom brunette of fifty-five. Born and raised most of her life in Maine right by the seaside, she was a kind but flinty woman. The type many would have expected to have remained an old maid in order to preserve her stalwart independence. Louise was a factory line supervisor who had met Andie’s father while he was on the job.

 

 Like most of his many other jobs before this one, Jack had only been at the company a few months before he simply stopped showing up. It was a familiar pattern and not something Jack was proud of but nevertheless being responsible for his work ethic did not seem to be something within his manageable control. When he’d stopped showing up, however, Louise had tracked him down instead wanting to see for herself what had come between the job and an otherwise perfectly good and skilled employee. 

 

Louise had heard many rumors about Jack Walsh’s behavior and it’s supposed sources. These justifications ranged everywhere from him being a functional alcoholic to simply a forlorn dreamer who had never recovered from his woman walking out on him years ago. When Louise had looked into the matter herself what she had found was not a sloven drunk or a heartbroken shut-in. What she found was a man who was sick with an affliction of the mind, not the heart. 

 

Jack Walsh was a manic depressive. Louise had known right off because her mother had been one as well. This was the factor that had probably greatly contributed to the hearty no-nonsense but sensitive woman Louise had become. When Jack Walsh was manic he found the wherewithal to pursue employment and achieve his aims with single-minded determination and tact. But when he was depressed, he simply couldn’t function.

 

 All of Jack's personal problems had been rooted unbeknownst to him in his mental health and because of it, he had endured decades of shame over something he did not understand nor was able to control.

 

Louise had understood. She had stopped the cycle of shame for Jack Walsh through her loving compassion for him that had eventually blossomed into an easy kind of mutual love. Although none of this was ever explained to either Jack or his daughter, when Louise was around Jack he seemed to be more consistently stable. This return to seeming consistency seemed to be a byproduct of staying mostly at home with Louise taking care of Jack and the house much like Andie had once done only without the expectation that he return to work. Andie had never questioned Louise about she and her father's arrangement. All she cared about was that Louise made her father happy. Overall, all three trusted each other explicitly. 

 

For Andie, Louise was another mother figure who served to fill in a little more of the dark void her biological mother had carved into her when she'd walked out on them more than a decade ago. More importantly, Louise clearly loved her father and once she had established herself in his life with regularity, Jack had finally put away the remainder of his wife's things and stopped pining over her memory. 

 

"There's my beautiful girl." Louise crooned draping her arm around Andie and giving her a warm snug squeeze. “Alright. What’s it going to be? Some of my pot roast? Greek salad? My famous short ribs and homemade potato salad? Maybe a piece of boston cream cake?”

 

Louse’s conspirtal tone made Andie chuckle’s she was like an indulgent aunt, a zany grandmother rolled into one. Louise's very nature made one feel like even at their worst things could turn out OK.

 

“Mm. I really think I need to try everything. You know. For quality control.” Andie joked as they both shook their heads in exaggerated agreement. “I may have to take the cake home for later, though.” 

 

“Well then I guess it’s a good thing I made two.” Louise proclaimed.

 

The Walsh residence was not very large or fancy but it did have a generous back yard with large trees that tended to choke out the grass but that left just the right balance of shade and sunlight through. 

 

Jack Walsh had built the patio himself for Andie’s mother as a wedding present. They’d had lovely garden party at home for their reception. It was and remained the crowning glory of the property even if the wood fencing had begun to rot in places and the once plush grass had turned to sand and crab crass. Recently, in a fit of mania Jack had redone and varnished the patio itself bringing it back to miraculous life. Ever since, Louise had gone out of her way to host upon it and it had become their favorite spot to take their regular meals.

 

 Today was to be the patio’s grand debut and as an added bonus Jack had found it in him to at least white wash the old fence while Louise had hung festive Chinese lanterns. It was still a bit chilly but the sun was out and as long as everyone wore a sweater and sat near the barbecue it was pleasantly warm enough despite being so early in the spring.

 

“Hi, Daddy.” Andie made directly for her father when she saw him. He was sitting in his favorite fold up lawn chair near the barbecue and smiled is weathered basset like smile that was ever patient. Ever sedate and kind.

 

Jack let his daughter kiss him warmly on the cheek. How tempting it was even now to encourage her to sit on his knee like she had done as a child and listen to her babble. Andie was a full grown woman now though and given the flimsy nature of his chair, he settled for her crouching down beside him to hold his hand.

 

“My successful and talented daughter emerges. Hello, Sweetie. Come on. Pull up a bench tell me everything. Has dear Philip arrived in town yet?” Jack had always referred to Duckie by his christian name.

 

Andie grunted and smiled. “Yeah. He came into town a few days ago, but I think he’s already planning to go out on the road again. The Duckettes are really catching some attention on the regional scene. You know Duckie. Self proclaimed prince of the hustle.”

 

“Well that’s good, He’s young. You kids should be out in the world following your heart’s content. Hey. Maybe you should go with him this time on tour. Huh? Take a little vacation.” Jack encouraged her nudging at her arm.

 

“What? No. I can’t do that.” Andie gently protested.

 

“What? Why not. You could call it a working trip. You do all those outfits up for them every time Philip and his girls come into town.” Jack persisted.

 

“Daddy, come on. Be serious. I can’t just up and leave the shop for six weeks. It’s just too much and it wouldn’t be fair to Jena. She’s not equipped to handle the books and shipments for more than a few days. It’s a nice thought though. Really.” Andie said patting his hand.

 

A slight frown hinted at the corner of Jack’s mouth and worry lines began to etch visibly upon his forehead. “Honey. You gotta get out sometime. Promise me you’ll take some time off this summer and go somewhere. At least out of the state. You’ve worked so hard all these years, I’d just hate to see you not take full advantage of your success. That’s what working is for. You take care of all the things your supposed to do and then you take that little bit extra to do the things you want to do.”

 

“Sure, Daddy. I’ll plan something. I promise.” Something in her father’s tone had subconsciously caught her and now when she answered him it was quieter and more sincere.

 

“Jack, leave her alone. When she has a good enough reason to expand her horizons she will. Here you go honey, I did you up a plate.” Louise handed a ladened dining plate over and settled into her own folding chair.

 

“I know, I know. I’m sorry, excuse me for pushing.” Jack replied.

 

“No. It’s OK. I do think about traveling sometimes. Mexico. Italy. France...Places stateside too. But, you know there’s so much involved in a big trip like that. I don’t know that I’d be brave enough to go by myself. Considering I took four years of French back in high school and passed with full marks you’d think I’d have more to show for it sometimes.” And muttered.

 

“Mm. You might be surprised how far a little highschool french can get you.” Louise said conversationally. “Jack, you did a lot of traveling at one point. Did you find it intimidating?” 

 

“No. But to be far I never had cause to leave the country. I suppose If I’d wanted to I could have done work in Mexico or up in Canada. Sears had stores in those regions.” Jack explained.

 

“I never knew you used to work for Sear, Roebuck and Company?” Andie said in astonishment.

 

“Oh. Well, yeah. I must have been seventeen when I started. I used to work for the printing department mostly for their mail room. You know, you get your eye for design from me. I was never much for fashion like you, but I had a fairly good eye for print layout and design once upon a time. In those days you started from the bottom and working your way up. I was never very ambitious but I did think it might have been nice to see my handiwork someday out there in the world.” Jack mused.

 

“Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk like this about anything. If that’s how you felt why did you stop?” Andie asked.

“I think after a while my priorities changed. I met your mother. Then we had you. And you were just so perfect. Being your father made me feel like more of a success than any other job ever could have. I didn’t want to miss out on that. Not a moment of it. I’m sure that all sounds pretty silly to you. Your mom wasn’t so happy with me about it at first. She always used to say that the management of the children and the home was a woman’s job. But you know, I was always more interested in equality between men and women in all areas of one's life. You were just starting to walk when I left the company. I remember the day your mother rang me up on the phone to tell me about it. I missed it and I realized I didn’t want to miss anything else.” Jack hadn’t actually left the company as much as he’d been dismissed from his position after a series of unexplained absences during work hours. 

 

In Jack Walsh’s mind however all he remembered about any of it was how badly he’s wanted to be home with his wife an infant daughter not only because he genuinely loved them but because it was only when he had been at home with his family that he’d felt one hundred present in the world.

 

“That’s nice, Daddy. Really.” Andie muttered softly and with sincerity that she only half felt.

 

While stories like this were often fascinating they also tended to be privately hurtful for Andie. At  no point in her life had she ever remembered her father having consistent work. While at times Jack Walsh had been legitimately laid off over the years, in most of the other cases he’d stopped going to work and lost his position on his own. After awhile it got to the point where many business owners were reluctant to hire Jack into full-time positions solely because of his poor professional reputation and dotty work history. What was hard about moments like this was that Andie felt like her father was unintentionally framing his history in a manner that made his professional problems her fault even if she logically knew none of it had been. Instead of calling her father out on it, however, Andie simply swallowed the strike know it would have mortified her father to know he had hurt her in any fashion whatsoever. 

 

Through all of this exchange, Louise was listening. More importantly, she was also watching and when Jack had landed his unintended blow Louise had felt it hit Andie and saw it cause her to withdraw. Bravely, Andie kept up an indifferent front to her father’s ramblings about the past. It was rare he brought much of it up anymore but sometimes he needed to draw in the connective tissue of the past to the now.

 

Andie carried on making small talk with them and describing some of her latest project and collaboration. Eventually, she got up and went to go fetch her father his early evening coffee. Some habits die hard. Once Andie was out of earshot Louise leveled a look at Jack.

 

“You can be so insensitive sometimes. May I remind you, Jack, that you’re daughter has enough problems with inventing her own things to feel unjustifiably responsible for. She doesn’t need you adding more to it. Andie knows you love her, but that love is not the reason for the instability of your professional life and you know it. Please try to think before you put your foot in your mouth, Dear. Please excuse me.” At that Louise got up and marched into the house looking for Andie so that she could do some damage control.

 

“Sweetheart, why don’t you let me take your father his coffee.” Louise called into the house ahead of herself. The last thing she wanted to do was catch Andie out in an undesirable moment.

 

Andie was on the edge of the kitchen, Staring unseeing into the living room. Near the mantel was a series of framed photographs the largest one was tucked near the far back. It remained the only picture of Andie’s mother in the house. Andie had left it behind. 

 

“Andie, Honey. Are you OK?” Louise asked cautiously as she stepped into the kitchen to join Andie.

 

“Yeah. Sure.” She muttered flatly slowly turning her eyes away from the mantel to look at louise. 

 

“Oh, sweetie. Your father didn’t mean what he implied out there.” Louise stepped closer as if she wanted to hold Andie but Andie subtly waved her off.

 

“He’s heading for a dive again.” She warned her. “I can tell. God, I know he’s been better for a while but...The patio. The fence.”

 

“Now you just let me handle your father. He may go into another dip and he may not. There’s no way to know what triggers these things.” Louise cautioned.

 

“I know you can handle it, but I’m still sorry. Daddy is the sweetest man alive but he can be such a handful. I feel stupid letting anything he says affects me when he starts to get like this. I think maybe I’m going to go if you don’t mind.” Andie muttered.

 

“Of course, baby girl. I can hold down the fort from here. Andie,” At the last minute, Louise piped up. “You’re mother leaving the two of you was not your fault. Children are never responsible for the discord of their parents.”

 

“I know.” Andie said nodding slowly. “Thanks, Louise. Believe it or not it helps to hear someone else say it. Why don’t I take that coffee and a piece of pie out to Daddy after all. OK?”

 

“Sure. Whatever you think is best.” Louise agree.

 

There was a pregnant pause between them before Andie set down her father’s mug and closed the gap between them to pull Louise into a tight hug. “Great. Oh and...I’m really looking forward to that second Boston cream cake.”

  
  
  
  



	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks. Heads up, November is National Novel Writing month and I will be using this story during the competition. This pretty much guarantees lots of new chapters so I hope everyone enjoys.
> 
> We're getting close to the completion of the first act. But there's still lots of ground to cover yet. Timeline wise we're only about a week into the story. ;)

Steff and Blane arrived at Steff’s parents promptly at nine in the morning. In the expansive driveway was a brand new white 1994 Toyota Land Cruiser only it was obvious it had been altered.

****

“Oh, shit.” Steff hissed under his breath. 

****

Steff narrowed his eyes as he quickly took stock of what he was going to be dealing with when he entered his parents' home. The Land Cruiser looked like it had been specially rigged up for off-roading. Steff suspected that the suspension had been specially fitted because the tires were also not what you typically found on a vehicle for asphalt. These tires were for difficult and wild terrain that would normally destroy standard tires in short order. The front was also augmented with what looked like a bull bar which was a wide tubular bar designed much more extensive front end protection. Steff could also clearly see specialized light mounts and heavy duty tow points. The strangest and most noticeable feature being two taunt wires that ran from the outfited roof rack down in an angle to the bull bar. The purpose of these being to help prevent larger branches of trees from shattering the windshield when driving through thick forest or jungle terrain. The Cruiser was also ladened with storage extras. All in all, it looked like a vehicle worthy of a hard core safari in some wild remote corner of the world. Clearly the cruiser was brand new and had yet to actually embark on any off-off excursions.

****

“Damn. That’s some vehicle your parents are sporting there. Your dad taking up a few new hobbies?” Blane remarked as he tilted his head at the outlandish cruiser that looked utterly ‘ostentatious in the driveway of people like the Mckee’s.

****

“God, Lord in Heaven. I hope not. But then again, what else would that jungle cruise monstrosity be doing here?” Steff muttered. “I suggest we proceed with extreme caution. I was hoping my father wasn't going to be due home till long after we left. But of course nothing can ever be as easy as that. Gird your loins, Blane. I have a feeling there’s going to be waves.”

****

Steff pressed his lips together causing a thin flat frown to crease along his face. But it was clear he was determined to proceed because at this point he had no other choice. Steff’s parents were the final obstacle between himself and his beloved child and if the senior Mckee’s so much as suggested a postponement of his plans to take her back with him, Steff knew he would not have the restraint to do the thing he had already promised not to do which was take his daughter and cut his parents out of the future mix despite everything they had done for them.

****

While Marianna Mckee new better and was not likely to dissuade her son of his plans, Brett Mckee was another matter. Brett Mckee was his son’s father as much as Steff was his father’s son. The estrangement between them had no bearing on this fact.

****

Blane watched Steff pull himself tauntly together. He’d seen that look before. It was the look of someone, specifically Steff Mckee, preparing for an inquisition. Interestingly, Steff did not have an air of intimidation or boredom about him as he might have with anyone else. But rather one of disgruntled consciousness. There was also just a hint of insecurity. A soft boyish trace. Blane noticed because he remembered when that boyish trace used to be Steff’s prominent personality. The last time he’d looked like this, they’d been boys of fourteen. Back then Steff had been a reserved haunted type. Deeply introverted, with large woeful eyes that made one think he found nearly everything around him to be terrorizing but was going to get along in spite of it.

****

Blane and Steff exited the car at the same time with /blane falling in a few steps behind him when they approached the Mckee’s front door. 

****

Unlike Blane who had his own set of keys to his parents home, Steff stood at the front door like a stranger on the premises and rang the doorbell.

****

It was Giana who answered, smiling approvingly when she saw who was at the door. “Good morning, Mr. Steffen. Please come in.”

****

“Thank you. Giana, is my daughter awake?” Steff asked quietly.

****

“Yes. I only just bathed her. She is playing in her room now before breakfast.” Giana confirmed.

****

“Good. If you would be so kind as to have her eat in the kitchen with you, I’d be most grateful. Once she’s eaten please bring bring her back to her room and begin packing. She knows that I’m taking her with me today, yes?” Steff asked with careful haste.

****

“Yes. Your mother has prepared her for your plans. May I direct you and your friend into the breakfast room now?” She asked warmly.

****

“No need. I’ll escort us myself.” Steff glanced at Blane, the look on his face one of apologies. “Giana this is Blane Mcdonnagh. My close friend. Blane, Giana. My parents’ very capable housekeeper.”

****

“Hi.” Blane muttered waving lightly.

****

“Good. Now that we’re all properly acquainted, Blane and I will leave you to it. Thank you again, Giana.” At that Steff stepped closer to Blane and touched his arm lightly so that he could guide him the right way.

****

“You doing OK?” Blane asked in a hushed intimate fashion as they walked.

****

“So far, but the day is young.” Steff muttered close to his ear. “The breakfast room is down this way.”

****

“I can’t believe you parent’s have a breakfast room.” Blane said through his own teeth.

****

“A breakfast room...And a salon...And a garden room. They’re still very continental.” Steff quipped.

****

Eventually, Steff dropped his hand from Blane’s arm as they neared the open archway leading into the breakfast room. The room was really just open space flanked with long windows leading out to the arboretum. It was less formal than the actual dining room and sat less people. It was Marianna Mckee’s favorite place. It also happened to be the room that she always looked the most beautiful in.

****

Unlike the night Steff had shown up troubled and angry to his mother who was tired and just ready to go to bed, Marianna was in top form this morning and seeing her like this actually made Steff feel better. Although she was now retired, it was easy to imagine Marianna as the top sales associate in a prestigious bank. She was a tall, slight, straight lined, and naturally elegant woman. 

****

“Well, Darling! You’ve arrived. Come in here properly. Have you brought a friend?” Marianna held out her hands for her son who immediately stepped into the room and came to take them.

****

“Good morning, Mother.” Steff said softly bending to kiss her cheek.

****

“My God. I can’t believe it. Is that really Blane McDonnagh standing at the doors to my breakfast room? Come in here right this minute and tell me how this has come about?”

****

“Hello, Mrs. Mckee. It’s..It’s good to see you again.” Blane chirped uncomfortably inching his way into the room.

****

Marianna leveled a look at Blane which was shockingly similar to the kind of look Steff might have given him.

****

“Blane. Do I ** _look_** like like one of your mother’s country club cronies for whom you only know by Family name?” She sharply said.

****

The sharp acidity in her tone mixed with her demure acutely intelligent manner was so profoundly similar to her son that it had a rejuvenating effect on Blane shocking him into a more present mindset.

****

“Let me try this again.” Blane said, smiling his boyish bright eyed smile. “It’s really good to see you Marianna. It’s been too long.”

****

“Better. I take it you boys are collaborating again, hm? Well, good. I never approved of whatever it was that came between you as young men. I expect whatever or _whoever_ it was over will remain in the past.” 

****

“Mother.” Steff’s tone held a languid warning in it. 

****

Unsurprisingly, it had zero effect on Marianna who smiled thinly to herself in satisfaction. 

****

“You’re father would like to speak to you before you leave, Steff. Please don’t antagonize him too much when you do. Your father loves you. Try to remember that.” Marianna said offhandidly.

****

“Where is he?” Steff asked flatly, though he already knew the answer.

****

“In his office. Where else would he be after coming home from a case?” Julianna asked rhetorically. 

****

Steff pursed his lips. “Blane, why don’t you stay here with my mother and have something. I’m going to go check on Ellie and then have a conversation with my father that I think we all know I don’t want to have. When I’m done, we’re gone.”

****

“Huh. Sure, buddy. I’ll have some coffee and then I’ll prep the car. We can jet whenever you and Ellie are ready.” Blane said supportively.

****

“Fine. I’ll try to make this short.” Pushing off the the window he’d been leaning against Steff approached his mother once more and, after pecking her on the cheek, said quietly. “I love you, mom. I love father too. Whatever happens, tell him I told you that. Thank you, please.”

****

Steff straightened up after that and muttering an elongated “God” to the ceiling he glanced skyward, shook his head once in a resigned fashion, and then slipped out of the room.

****

“I worry about him sometimes.” Marianna remarked once her son had fully disappeared. “You don’t really want any breakfast, do you?”

****

“Not really. Although I might take an antacid if you have any.” Blane said, frankly.

****

“Mm.” Marianna reached along the side of her chair to produce her purse and pulled out a roll of Rolad’s passing them over to him. “I take it he’s been a handful since he’s re-emerged in Orange. It’s very good of you to be so tolerant of him considering you two haven’t spoken in nearly a decade.” There was clear accusation within her words. 

****

Blane could feel the barbs dig in just enough to remind him to be cautious. While Steff may have decided they were friends again, Steff’s opinion was not the only one that held any weight.

****

“I didn’t mean to abandon him. I really thought he hated me in the end and at the time...It was better for me to walk away from him.” Blane admitted.

****

“Well,” Marianna began, appraisingly. “I suppose I can respect that. By all accounts, my beloved son made a right bloody mess of just about all his important relationships at that time. Everyone does when they are in pain, I suspect. I can’t really claim to know what went on between all of you in the past. I admit, I wasn’t as involved in things as I could and should have been as a parent. Perhaps, I was simply too caught up in my own self important experiences to be there the way my son needed someone to be. In light of everything that’s happened I have no choice but to live with the consequences of my neglect. What I am certain about, however, is that my son loves you terribly. He always has. If things go bad this time between you or his private ambitions, I don’t know what will happen to him. For all his great intelligence, my son has yet to understand how to fully love himself because we failed to teach him and because I believe that he truly can’t see how extraordinary he really is nor can he find any fulfillment in it.”

****

Blane had subconsciously moved to spot Steff had been standing in and, like him, leaned back against the window pane occasionally peering out into the arboretum as he listened to Marianna speak. 

****

“I know he can’t.” Blane piped in earnestly, looking back at Marianna. “I promise you I’m going to keep an eye on him from now on. Be there for him. Help him if I can with things. Steff is my best friend. These days, he might be my only friend.”

****

“See that you do, Blane. For your own sake.” The threat in her words was both treacherous and eloquent. 

 

~@~

****

“Daddy, I may-this for you.” Ellie babbled on her bed as Steff lounged on his side with his knees curled around her.

****

“Oh well, isn’t that beautiful.” Steff delicately took the corners of the watercolor and marker artwork his daughter had done at some point and examined it. “Who is this? Me?”

****

Ellie nodded broadly.

****

“And, I bet this is you. I like the big heart you did around us. That’s very nice.” He praised her, noting the stick figures in the center that only vaguely resembled anything humanoid. There was a green four window house in the left background that had a line resembling a hill or a winding roadway leading to where the figures stood. In the right of the background was another stick figure. This one done only in black marker. The squiggles around the black oval face were the only indication that this figure was perhaps female. Although the figure was smaller than everything else, it drew the eye away from the center of the picture and took away some of it’s innocence. 

****

“Who is this, Ellie?” Steff asked as cautiously and lightly as he could muster, pointing at the inky figure.

****

Steff felt his daughter withdrawal at the question and squirm where she sat. Unsure of what to make of her hesitance, he decided to risk exposing a potential wound that he wasn’t sure existed, or, to what extent, if one was indeed there.

****

“You know, sometimes I miss mommy.” Steff lied. “Do you feel like that sometimes?”

****

“Ye-ah,” Ellie gurgled, shrinking down even more. 

****

This admittance stabbed at Steff, but he let the feeling pass. His daughter had a right to feel any way she wanted and it was imperative to Steff that he ensure that she never believe otherwise when it came to their relationship. 

****

“Is mah-me, go-ig  to live at-at the new ‘ouse with us?” Ellie asked negligently. 

****

“No, baby.” Steff said bluntly. “It’s just going to be you and me. I’m sorry that mommy can’t be with us. I don’t know when we’ll get to see her again.”

****

Ellie was silent for a long time and played with the edges of her flower patterned dress. 

****

Steff allowed this silence. Embraced it even. When it came to his ex-wife, Steff prefered to say as little as he could get away with about her to his daughter. When he was called to speak about here, however Steff was  both committed and determined to carefully evade any commentary about her character particularly if it was negative until Ellie had the words and the impulse to asked him honestly about her someday.

****

“Is OK, Daddy.” Ellie said at length, suddenly relaxing and flopping onto her back before cuddling into her father. “Mommy is sleeping. But yur awake.”

****

Steff huffed, her words catching and causing tears to gather and sting at the corners of his eyes.

****

“I love you, baby. Everything is going to be OK now. We’re going home today _together_. Did you and Giana pack everything you wanted to take today?” A series of tears brokeof the corner of his eye and drained down the right side of Steff’s face, but thankfully Ellie didn’t see it. His show of intense feeling would have only confused and concerned her.

****

“Yep.” Ellie nooded absently.

****

“Good. Why don’t you play here a little longer. OK? I’m going to go down and talk to Pa-Pa and then when I’m done we’ll go home.” Steff pulled the side of his daughter’s head to his lips and pressed a kiss there and then pulled away.

****

He took a few seconds to breathe deeply, pulling himself together before he pushed himself up into the sitting position and got off the bed. Steff nonchalantly rubbed at his face and put the picture Ellie had given him down on the small vanity. Soon after he forced himself to step from the room leaving his daughter quietly pawing at her stuffed rabbit and reading it a made up story from one of her picture books.

****

_God fucking Christ, children are resilient._ Steff observed before he stalked out of his daughter’s room down the hall. 

****

The prospect of finally speaking to his father left Steff feeling drained. Like his daughter, he was also resilient. But unlike his daughter Steff knew the limitations and disadvantages of the trait. Although his headache had finally ceased, it had already been a long day and it wasn’t remotely half over. Steff’s body was starting to ache again and his chest felt heavy but there was no clear sign yet of a cough besides a mild itchy thickness in the back of his throat that made him conspicuously aware of his usually involuntary bodily functions.

****

Steff moved silently down to the main level of the house. For a moment he entertained visions of his mother making small talk with Blane and smiled in short lived reprieve of amusement. It had been somewhat uncharitable of Steff to leave Blane alone to face his mother unsupervised given how fierce a person his mother had a reputation for being. 

****

“He’s going to pay me back for that one someday. I’m sure of it.” Steff rubbed at his face in a firm rhythmic manner, effectively wiping away the last traces of his earlier tears.

****

Sniffing loudly and tugging his sweater straight and smooth, Steff prepared to face his father for the first time in many weeks.

****

Brett Mckee’s private office was located on the polar opposite end of the house from Marianna’s breakfast room. Both rooms reflected the interests and personas of their primary inmates. The breakfast room was full of clarity and clean straight and ordered elegance. The office of Steff’s father by contrast was warm, appropriately intellectual, and was kissed with just a touch of eclectic whimsy. 

****

Brett had designed the space himself using reclaimed walnut from floor to ceiling. Both Brett’s writing desk in the center of the room and his computer desk off to the side where also of a distressed walnut. There were three chairs in the room. All were upholstered in a buttery brown leather with a glossy sheen. The one set of windows had long celery green drapes with robins and sparrows printed on them. A set of expensive vintage binoculars sat on a curved brass and glass wheeled decanter table and were well used and well loved. Unsurprisingly, there was a cut crystal decanter filled with some golden spirit and two matching tumblers beside it. 

Knowing his father as he did, it was probably a type of Scotch.

 The back wall was lined with sturdy built in shelves neatly ladened with books, case files, and various nik naks from Brett’s many out of country excursions. Finally the room was accessorized with jungle and savanna accents. There was, for example, a mock zebra hide rug that looked remarkably authentic. There was also a burnt orange accent pillow settled into the seat of the wingback armchair in the left corner nearest the door featuring a silhouetted gazelle’s head and horns. There were various waxy looking and well cared for plants scattered across the room completing its overall decor and illustrating that it was a living breathing space.

****

When Steff approached his father’s office, he could hear a news paper crinkling and the sound of a tea cup and saucer being clink together. Not surprising Brett was taking his after breakfast tea alone instead of with his family.

****

Brett Mckee was nearly a head taller than his son with a broader build. Steff was built more like his mother. Straight and lean. Like Marianna, Brett was in his early sixties. His face was a long oval with small eyes and a receding hairline. The hair he did have was thick and dyed dark auburn. The color though obviously dyed at his age did have the effect of making Bret look about fifteen years younger which added to his ability to intimidate and convince people of things. Like all the Mckee men, there was a bird of prey feel to Brett. Where Steff was like a Harris Hawk, his father was like a Great Horned Owl.

****

Pressing his lips together Steff neared the door of his father’s office that was three fourths agar and gave a firm wrap on the molding.

****

“You wanted to see me.” Steff remarked.

****

“Yes, I did and a good morning might have been a more ideal response.” Brett ruffled his newspaper, shut it, and then folded it over once before setting it down on the edge of his desk. “Why don’t you come in and sit down. ”

****

Steff conceded to this request and came into the room more fully. He then plucked the accent pillow up from the wingback chair in the corner and sat down. “I see you’ve redecorated.”

****

“Just a touch. We were invited this year to visit Cape Town by an old law school friend of ours and you know your mother. She’s been sneaking little accents in here for weeks in anticipation of the trip.

****

“You’re going to Africa?” Steff raised one brow. “When?”

****

“Mm. We haven’t decided yet. There’s still much to plan. Now that you’re mother’s retired she wants to start living again. The way she sees it, we’ve spent our lives accumulating and we’re not getting any younger so we might as well.” Brett explained.

****

“Seems a bit redundant to me.” Steff muttered. 

“Redundant. How so?” Brett asked conversationally.

****

“In the last, what? Thirty years? You and mother you’ve traveled to nearly every continent dozens of times, half of which weren’t even on your own dime thanks to the necessities of your prestigious careers. Just how does that not equate to living your lives?” Steff muttered.

****

“Now, see? That’s precisely what I said. But when it comes to your mother she wants what she wants. So we’re going to africa.” Brett muttered dismissively. Brett had been resting his ankles in a reclining position upon his desk and now pulled them down.

****

“So? What’s going on with you? I expect you’ve gotten around to securing appropriate lodgings for my granddaughter.”” Brett leaned forward and rested his hands upon his desk knitting them together. “I hope to God you seriously reconsidered buying the Craig Street property that you’ve been going on about.”

****

Steff narrowed his eyes at his father suspiciously. “I did buy the Craig Street property, actually. The details and liquidation of the old property has been concluded and construction has started on The Kitten Club.”

****

“God. Really?” Brett leaned forward and gave his son a look that resembled a great horned owl eyeing a field mouse from its perch. “And you’ve already managed  to find a competent contractor. Seems a little rushed. When is the project projected to conclude, if I may ask?”

****

“Three weeks. Give or take. Why?” Steff demanded mimicking his father’s posture.

****

“So they’ve told you something like that can be completed so soon and you don’t find that suspicious.” Brett challenged him.

****

“Not in the least.” Steff said easily. “I have every confidence the work will be completed on time and to my specifications.”

****

Brett grunted, unimpressed and rolled his eyes. “Maybe I can make some calls. At least make sure your not getting screwed over by…”

****

“That won’t be necessary.” Steff said sharply. “The work is being handled by a close personal friend who more than has the means to get the job done efficiently and properly. You needn’t concern yourself about it.” 

****

“I see. I wasn’t aware you had _any_ close personal friends _left_ in Orange. Considering you’ve had such a good nack of burning bridges over the years.” Brett said cuttingly.

****

“I wasn’t sure I did either but, you know, sometimes all it takes is a little time and a few well placed requests. If you’re worried I don’t have any practical support in this business matter you’d be mistaken. I may not have many real friends left anymore, but I have enough to see me through these new and uncertain times.” Steff insisted.

****

“Who?” Brett asked.

****

“Blane McDonnagh among others. I approached him recently with the concept and he decided to take the project on personally. He’s here with me now helping me with some personal things.” Steff remarked.

****

‘Blane McDonnagh.” Brett shook his head in disbelief. “You must have really scrape at the bottom of the barrel to bring that little pissant into this.”

****

Steff rolled his eyes at the dig. “Yes. Well it really isn’t any of your concern one way or another. Now is it? The bottom line is that The Kitten Club is a done deal and in a little bit here I am collecting my daughter and bringing her home with me.”

****

“Of course you are and, call it what you like; but I’d hardly call some run down poorly secured apartment a _home_ let alone a place that I would consider to be conducive to raising a family. But by all means suit yourself.” Brett argued.

****

There it was. The thing Steff had been waiting for his father to say to him. “I plan to.”

****

There was a pregnant pause in the space and Steff could feel his father’s emotions amping up.

****

“So this is really going to be your life now?” Brett propped the side of his head up against one fist and sighed deeply.

****

“That’s right. I’m sorry that you so clearly disapprove.” Steff said flatly.

****

 “What? You expected me to be excited about all of this? I’ll never understand you son. You have potential I can only dream about.” Brett stood up and weaved around to the front of his desk to begin his speech. “You could have mastered a dozen languages by now, gone anywhere in the world you wanted.”

****

“You could make such a difference doing so many things and instead your choosing to piss it all away.” Brett perched upon the edge of his desk staring down expressively at his son. “To do what? Run some _cabaret bar_ in the middle of nowhere important?”

****

Steff level a peeved look at his father. “That’s right.”

****

“You don’t feel any sense of responsibility to do more with your life?” Brett demanded.

****

“I **_could_** do more.” Steff conceded. “But I **_don’t_** want to.” 

****

Brett looked at his son appraisingly. 

****

“What kind of son did I raise?” Brett muttered softly. “You don’t care, do you? You don’t care about contributing. About making a difference.”

****

“Not a wit.” Steff insisted. “Really, I  can’t believe this is just dawning on you now. Ishould think you would have figured this out years ago.”

****

“Is there no end to your selfishness? Clearly I wasn’t firm enough with you growing up. You seem to have developed no respect for yourself.” His father criticized. 

****

“I have plenty of respect for myself. What I don’t have, is any patience or taste for doing what is not within my own best interest. It’s a bit hard to instill charity and compassion in your children when you choose to never be around them. With that kind of modeling it shouldn’t be any wonder why I’ve turned out this way.” Steff argued.

****

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” His father demanded.

****

Steff shrugged. “You know what it means. You were never around when I was growing up. Not for either of your children. Before the age of ten I almost never saw either you or my mother. And now you have the nerve to stand there and pass judgement on me. Well I’m sorry but you can just go straight to Hell.”

****

“Don’t talk to me like that Steffen Michael. I’m still your father.” Brett blustered. “You were not abandoned as a child. Your mother and I worked tirelessly to take care of everyone. Your sister, you, my parents? Everyone we cared about enjoyed the best money could buy and we achieved all that purely under our own power. Everything you had growing up..The top notch education, the advanced placement testing, specialized attention we paid in fostering all your talents. You’ll never understand the sacrifices we made all so you could enjoy all the privileges that come with being as exceptional as you truly are. How dare you throw all of that back in my face. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you were younger. But I swear that everything I was doing that kept me away from you back then was necessary. Your mother and I tried. We were determined to give you every possible advantage in life because we love you and we thought we were doing what we had to do. Are you telling me that doesn’t count for anything?”

****

“Love is not a tally board of have and have nots. Any advantage I ever needed I already innately had.” Steff tapped at his temple. “Parenting however is a full time commitment that you never felt the need to apply yourself to. Luckily for both of use other people picked up the slack. People like my grandparents, people like the Wilsons. I’m grateful for everything I currently have thanks to those influences. As my parents I do attribute some of that to you as well. There are, after all, some things we can never divorce ourselves from.”

****

“How disappointing it must be for you. To have raised a genius who doesn’t want any part of his own brilliance.” Steff muttered dispassionately.

****

“Frankly, yes. It has been disappointing. Bitterly so, but you’ve made it perfectly clear you don’t care how I feel about any of it. Fine, fine. I can see how you feel and why. You’ve got a bone to pick with me? Then fine. Let’s pick at it and get it over with. You think I was a shitty father to you? Tell me more. State you case.” Brett rested his palms  on the desk and waited.

****

 “You really want to go into this? Now?” Steff asked.

****

“What? Did you want to wait till easter or my birthday to ruin my day? Why wait? Come on. Spit it out. I know you’ve wanted to tell me what you really think of me since you were twelve. I have the therapy receipts to prove it.” Brett encouraged him.

****

“ _Fine_. You want to know why I don’t care about being a disappointment to you? You treated me like a trophy, like a conversation piece to brag over instead of your son all my life and you have the nerve to expect me to be grateful for that? Really? Kindly go fuck youself. When it comes to my life I don’t want or need your approval regarding anything I do. I never did and /i never will.” Steff rattled off bluntly.

****

“Unbelievable.” Brett muttered, rolled his eyes. “Well? Keep going. You might as well put all your cards on the table. Layout all the conceivable ways I screwed you over as a father. Far be it from me to complain now about any of it.”

****

Steff narrowed his eyes even further. “You’re the  unbelievable one. Complain? From my perspective you really have nothing to complain about. My past mistakes and indiscretions such as they are, are my own and I have never claimed them to be otherwise. You likewise deserve all due credit for some of the things you’ve done on my behalf. I may indeed be selfish but I am not ungrateful to you or anyone else past or present who has ever helped me.”

****

Steff was of course referring to the trouble around Amanda Trombley’s death that had put the Mckee family in some hot water so many years ago. Even though Steff had always been treated as a witness to her death and not an accessory, neither he nor his family had completely escaped public scrutiny. Especially when Steff’s testimony had helped put away Eric Howorwitz, Janie’s older brother for his rampant monopoly of the local drug scene. The family connection had caused quite a dust up indeed and had only quieted down once Amanda was six feet under, Eric was sitting in prison, and Steff had completely disappeared from the community. During that period his father had taken charge and made sure his son wasn’t roped into any undue accusations of his connection to Amanda. As a result, few people knew he had been there during her death. Brett had also paid for his son’s drug rehabilitation as well, both times and without hesitation. 

****

Later when Steff had fallen in with the Langley’s, Brett had mostly stayed out of the matter until his son had made his full intentions clear. Brett hadn’t agreed with the resulting union but had still allowed it to carry on to its inevitable ill end and when Steff had gone after Chelsea over the care of their daughter he had pointed his son in the direction of the best lawyer available to get the wretched woman out of all their lives.

****

“I sincerely hope you’re as ready as you think you are to start running your own life again. I love you, son. But there are limits to what a father can do for his children.” Brett muttered caught off guard by his son’s sudden turn of tact in their conversation from one of accusations to humble gratitude.

****

“You’ve been more than generous all these years. But it done now. For the last six years I’ve lived my life by your recommendation because I needed that guidance for once. In that time, I’ve done the minimal of what you’ve directed me to do and I’ve accepted how things have panned out because I went along with those directions. Now though? It’s my turn to live according to my own terms. I don’t expect you to like what I’ve decided to do with my life. It’s not prestigious, or glamorous, or particularly noble. But it’s mine. Not to mention it’s providing the means for me to support and care for my daughter. To be with my daughter the way she deserves. You’ve supported me all this time. Through all the bullshit and madness. Why can’t you support me now?” Steff was growing tired of their sparing. 

****

“Fine. You’re right. I suppose I can muster some minor support and encouragement. But I would be remiss if I didn’t tell you that I think your making a damned fool of yourself with all this Kitten Club business. I suppose I just want you to know that when this all blows up in your face you can always come back here.” His father affimed.

****

“Not a chance. I’m happy enough to bring Ellie here. But that’s all.” Steff said firmly.

****

“Fine, fine. Have it your way.” Brett got up and walked back around the other side of his desk to sit down. “Assuming you’re not too busy in a few month’s time you might at least consider coming away with me for a weekend. After the case load I’ve just completed I could use a proper break. I’d like you to come with me, if that's not too much to ask.” Brett muttered reproachfully.

****

Steff sighed. “I suppose I can put aside some time. Does this break include that all terrain monstrosity I saw pulling in?”

****

“Yes. Anyway, I’ll ask you again when I have more of the details worked out. Well, I think we’re done here. Wouldn’t you say? Don’t forget to say goodbye to your mother before you leave.” Brett said.

****

His father was dismissing him finally. 

****

Steff sighed audibly and stiffly stood. “When everything Is finalized with the Kitten Club I intend to extend an invitation for you and mother to see it in its full glory. While I know you don’t approve, I’d still like you both to be there. Take it into consideration. Have a good day, dad.”

****

Steff approached his father and patted him once on the hand before slipping from the room. 

****

Brett Mckee let out a breath once his son was out of his sight and shook his head cupping his face in his hands.

****

Steff walked to the kitchen and found his daughter sitting with Giana as she finished a small bowl of cereal. She had her coat on indicating that they were almost ready to leave.

****

Just then Blane stepped back through the door off one side of the kitchen. “Hey. Everyone ready to go?”

****

Steff looked at Blane. “Yeah, buddy.  We’re all done here.”

  



	13. Chapter 13

Andie’s weekend was preoccupied mostly with going over wardrobe details with Duckie at Cats and getting feedback about how their last round of costumes had held up.

The Duckettes were a four woman group. All of them played instruments and sang. Overall, it was a pretty equalized contribution of music and lyrics with the women regularly alternating who led what song. The women had a decidedly glam rock element to them and most of their costumes were a mixture of skin-tight pleather, colorful leopard print, sequins and faux fur pieces with occasional retro touches and nods to other musical legends. The band more commonly did covers, but also had a growing list of original songs. 

For Andie’s part she loved doing up the costumes for the band. It helped get her out of her comfort zone and it was an excuse to stay updated with Duckie even though his professional work largely had him traveling all the time.

“So things got weird at your dad’s house, huh?” Duckie asked as he supervised his girls practicing their blocking in the late Sunday morning.

“Yeah. I don’t know, everything seems fine for the most part. Daddy and Louise are happy. The house looks more cleanly and organized than I’ve ever seen it. But deep down I can’t help but worry. He’s my dad. Before Louise came into our lives it was my job to take care of him. And now what? It’s just hard for me to let him fend for himself.” Andie admitted.

“Ya know, his suggestion isn’t half bad though. There’s no reason you couldn’t come on tour with me and the girls if you wanted to. At least for the summer. The tour bus is pretty roomie and sleeps eight.” Duckie encouraged her mildly.

“I don’t know. It sounds like fun, but touring across the country on a bus is really more Iona’s speed than it is mine and, realistically, I just can’t leave the store unattended that long. Jena’s the only employee I have and it would be unfair to expect Iona to help out and run both Tracks and Think Pink in my absence. She’s probably the only one I’d fully trust to do it.” Andie pointed out.

“Sure. I guess that’s true. Well if you ever change your mind? The Duckman has got a handle on all your getaway needs.” Duckie wiggled his brows absurdly at her.

“Would you stop it.” Andie laughed and got into a brief slapping match with him. “We’re going to go out to dinner before you leave, right?”

“But of course, mon amie. Only ze finest will do.” Duckie replied in a terribly stereotypical french accent.

“Really? Cause I do want to do something nice this time around. No gimmicks this time.” Last time she’d let Duckie surprise her with the venue he’d picked a dive bar with mud wrestling.

It was funny and entertaining for sure, but by no means had it been very classy or high brow and Andie was the type who preferred to talk while she ate and at a volume more conducive to not waking up with a hangover and a sore throat in the morning.

“Tell you what.” Duckie snapped his fingers briskly. “What do you say we check out the place on Craigs Street if it’s open before I leave? I’ve heard rumors that it’s going to be a swanky kind of joint. Not to mention there might be some interesting gags to be had. Judging by how fast everything is going up whoever rented the lower space must be pretty desperate. I bet they’re shelling out a mint in rent.”

“Is it going to be a restaurant? How do you know?” Andie pressed him, beyond amused by the prospect.

“Easy.” He beamed. “Drew told me. The Diceman knows everything that's happening in this town. He’s got some kind of insider information at the very least.” 

“I don’t doubt it. It sounds like a nice idea. If it’s open then we’ll go. Could be a real blast. I’m going to take off. I want to start sketching the new costumes and I’ve got a shipment I’m expecting to come in at the shop. Ring me later if you want.” Andie hurriedly got up, kissed Duckie on the cheek, and headed for the exit like always. 

Duckie waved her off as a party pooper and watched her leave. “She’s...She’s a good kid.”

Duckie wheezed a minute theatrically and hit himself in the chest before he pulled his eyes away and turned all his focus on the Duckettes. “Alright, Ladies. Let’s do it one more time from the beginning. A five, six, seven, eight!”

Andie got back to the shop just in time to sign for deliveries and to send Jena on her hour lunch break. Andie loved doing Sunday Inventory. It was the least busy day in her week and the shop always closed early on Sundays giving her a kind of semi-half day off if she wanted. Since everyone usually wanted to get together on her days off, Sunday afternoons were purely her own to do with as she pleased.

This particular afternoon Andie aimed to reorganize the back room for the thousandth time. Every time she tried she went into it with extreme optimism that she could make something reasonable of the tiny space and walked out of the space mostly wore out with little actually achieved.

At four-thirty, Jena popped in to say good-bye for the evening and by half-past five Andie finally gave up and closed the store for the day. Intending to lock up and go home Andie just so happened to glance absently down the street.

It seemed like the workmen had gone home early over on Graig’s street and there weren’t many cars parked out on the roadside on this particular day. In the distance, Andie could see Steff Mckee’s Firebird sitting in its usual spot.

Truth be told, Andie had been waiting for these conditions for quite some days. The spare clothes Steff had lent her were still on her mind and now that It was nearly a full week since he’d moved in she felt better about gracing his door once more. Andie unlocked the shop long enough to get the clothes and put them neatly in a large paper bag. She also grabbed her sketchbook thinking she might stop off somewhere quaint and sketch awhile over a latte or danish.

Locking up again and looked back down the street Andie suddenly wished she’d thought to get a number or send a card ahead warning that she planned to stop by again. It felt somewhat awkward to just go over to Steff Mckee’s apartment and knock on his door again especially given how they’d gotten reacquainted. 

“Stop being an idiot. You're just dropping off a bag.” Andie chided herself as she rolled her eyes and start walking to her car.

A few minutes later Andie parked and came up to the side door finding it propped open. 

Discovering this Andie hesitated trying to decide if it wasn’t better to scribble a note and just leave the bag for Steff to find later. Ultimately though, she ruled this plan out. If she just left the bag with the door wide open it was possible that anyone could take it.

Conflicted, she finally took a deep breath and decided it was better to just return the bag personally and get it over with.

Andie practically tiptoed up the stairwell Steff had once carried her up. The door to his apartment was just a few feet from the top. A television playing cartoons came into earshot indicating that there was, in fact, somebody home although it was somewhat amusing to imagine Steff Mckee catching a riveting twenty minutes of Loony Toons in his spare time.

Meanwhile in the apartment, Steff Mckee was watching Looney Toons as a matter of fact.

Well. It was more that Steff had put the Cartoons on for his daughter while he miserably, huffed, and chuffed, and drug himself back and forth between the living room and kitchen trying desperately to stay awake. He was dedicated to take care of his daughter but now that he was sick he also had to find the time to keep himself full of clear liquids and non-drowsy cold medicine. It was easier to think about than it was to actually do.

When the doorbell from the lower level first rang Steff had utterly ignored it. There was no one he could have possibly been interested in seeing just then. But when a tentative sounding knock came at his apartment door Steff did eventually force himself off the couch once more planning to tell whoever it was that the apartment was presently under quarantine and that he was not to be further disturbed. 

Getting up gingerly, Steff grabbed up his silk smoking jacket from the kitchen table and pulled it on. His body ached everywhere and felt both heavy and weak at the same time. For Ellie’s sake, Steff wore a generic hospital mask that he hated but that seemed effective enough to be tolerated. Bumbling his way to the front door, Steff unlocked it, cracked it open a few inches and in a broken sickly tone asked the messenger if he could help them.

He got most of the way through this question before he bothered to actually look at who was at the door. “Oh...It’s you.”

Hastily, Steff hooked a finger into his face mask and pulled it down so it sat awkwardly under his chin.

“Right. Yeah, it’s me. Sorry. Is this a bad time? I mean, I was just...I thought...You’re sick. You’re sick because of me. Aren't you? Jesus. You look terrible. Huh, here.” Andie awkwardly pressed the bag in her hands against the door crack. “I wanted to bring these back to you from...Before.”

Steff looked from Andie to the bag and back at her. Slow recognition dawning on him. “You’ve brought the clothes back. Huh, how nice of you. You didn’t have to bring them back to me.”

“Yeah, well. They ARE yours. So...Were you planning to take them, or…” Andie asked since he didn’t seem inclined to open the door further.

“Sorry. Of course.” Hastily, Steff opened the door the rest of the way for her. “Please, come in. But, maybe, don’t touch anything. For your own sake. I have something of yours too. Give me a second, for the life of me I can’t think of where it is right now.”

Steff turned around and walked away from here slipping into his bedroom.

Andie stepped into the entryway and shut the door behind her. Looney  Toons was indeed playing on a large boxy TV in the living room and, to Andie’s surprise,  sitting down in front of it was a little girl. A coloring book and a box of crayons were set in front of her as she pawed slowly through the pages. Andie thought she must by three or four. Five at most. Not that she really knew anything about young children. The little girl seemed to ignore her presence. 

Both surprised and fascinated to see a child in Steff Mckee’s apartment, Andie walked close to the dining table and set down the bag. Her sketchbook was still clutched in one hand nearly like a shield. She then slowly approached the child to see which picture she’d settled on. It looked like she had picked a flamingo.

A few seconds later, the little girl shot a timid side glance at Andie whom she had just realized was there and consider her. She then looked back at her coloring book and exerted the most adorable yawn and then sigh possible. “You can col-or with me if you want.”

Andie blinked a second, realizing the child was talking to her and approached slowly crouching down by her. “Wow. That’s awful nice of you to share with me. But I’m not sure if there’s going to be enough time. What’s your name?”

“I’m Ellie. I live here now. You can come back later and color if you want too.” The child said quietly.

“I’m Andie. You live here? Wow. Who do you live with?” Andie asked.

“My daddy.” Ellie explained, huffing mildly as if she thought the question to be unnecessary.

Andie’s eyes widened at this information. Ellie was Steff’s daughter. Steff Mckee was a divorcee and a parent. It seemed almost inconceivable. Closing her mouth abruptly at this notion Andie stood up just in time to see Steff trudge out of the bedroom with her vintage raincoat.

“Um. I’m sorry I couldn’t find this right away. It slipped my mind that I had sent it to the cleaners. It was still in the garment bag they set back.” Steff said thickly.

“The cleaners? For a raincoat?” Andie chirped.

“It’s vintage. This is oiled silk. Didn’t you know?” Steff inquired.

“Under the circumstances, I didn’t really look,” Andie muttered, taking to from him. “Thanks. You didn’t have to.”

Before Steff could reply, he felt Ellie attach herself to his leg.

Both Steff and Andie slowly looked down at her.

“Daddy, I hungry,” Ellie said in a muffled manner against her father’s striped pajama pants.

Steff huffed and looked back up at Andie. “I need to...Yeah. Wait a moment. I just need...I need a second. Excuse me.” 

Looking beyond tired Steff slowly pried his daughter off his leg, slipped his mask back into place and picked her up. “OK, String Bean. Let’s go.”

Steff carried her into the kitchen and lowered Ellie down into a chair so that he could putter around the kitchen assembling a meal for his daughter.

Still rather aghast, Andie slowly turned and watched him. 

Everything looked like it was a struggle. It was obvious Steff had a terrible cold and was presently barely functional. Never once though did he complain or get frustrated with his task. There was simply a desperate determination to persevere in his expression as he boiled a small pan of water to make some boxed macaroni and cheese. After a few minutes, Andie saw sweat forming on his forehead and when he went to plate the macaroni and add some cut up hot dogs to it she saw the pan tremble slightly.

“Here you go, String bean. Eat it slow and chew carefully. Good girl. Daddy loves you.” Steff praised her and kissed her on the head through his mask. 

When he pulled away Steff nearly stumbled and, backtracking, caught himself at the edge of the counter.

“Hey. Are you alright?” Alarmed, Andie breezed into the kitchen grabbing him by the forearm. “Hold still. I want to feel your head.”

“What? Why?” Steff protested pulling his head abruptly away from her hand as he held onto the edge of the counter With Andie still latched to him.

“Steff. You’re obviously sick. I want to see if you have a fever. Now please let me see. It’s a hand not a snake.” Andie held up her free palm as if to show him and then pressed it to his damp forehead. 

“You’re burning up.” She concluded. “You should be in bed.”

“I can’t.” Steff muttered.

“Well you can’t keep going on like this either. Come on. At least sit-down. Where do you keep the Aspirin? Do you have a first aid kit with a thermometer?” Andie insistently asked.

“The first aid kit is on top of the fridge and the Aspirin in next to my bed. It’s been two days and I’ve managed just fine.” He protested.

“Yeah? So what? I’m supposed to just take your word for it and go on my merry way? Fat chance. You can barely stand right now.” She argued.

“I think you’re overreacting,” Steff muttered.

“OK. Fine. I’ll go right now on one condition.” Andie bargained.

“Oh yeah? What’s that, Miss Walsh?” Steff challenged.

Andie shook her head and walked away from him to the edge of the kitchen. “Show me you can walk a straight line. Toe to toe. Make it to the edge of the kitchen and I’ll butt out.”

Steff narrowed his red-rimmed puffy eyes at her and contemplated his odds. _“Fine._ ”

With an immense amount of concentrated effort, Steff steadied himself and began his demonstration.

At first, it seemed like Andie was overreacting but once he got past the first five for six steps his breathing became a bit more taxed and his upper legs began to shudder with strain. He was terribly sick and they both new it.

Andie’s eye widened as she raced forward just in time to catch Steff around the waist and felt him lean heavily into her.

“Well,” Steff said breathlessly. “This is quite embarrassing.”

“I’m sure it is. Come on. I’ll help you in the living room. It’s OK.” Andie ignored his defeated genuinely embarrassed tone and helped Steff bumble into the living room and to the oversized sectional couch.

Once she deposited him there she then laid a couch blanket across his lap and hurried into the kitchen.

 “Put this under your tongue. If your temp is too high I’m taking you to the hospital.” She insisted a minute later, sticking the thermometer in his mouth.

Steff obeyed and said nothing.

As it turned out, although his temperature was quite high, it wasn’t quite in the danger zone and Andie was satisfied that with enough fluids, rest, and a fever reducer the fever could be kept under control at home.

"You should eat too." Andie remarked as she kept an eye on Ellie's progress and watched Steff doggedly blow into a cloth handkerchief. "Let me fix something for you."

Steff glanced up at this request and nodded watching her walk back into the kitchen as he heard the sound of things being moved around and looked through.

A few minutes later, Andie reemerged with a tall bowl and a mug of tea passing them to him. She then pulled up a nearby automen and sat down near him.

"Are you going to be OK? Do you want me to call someone or something?" She asked, unintentionally parroting the same turn of questioning Steff had put to her the week before.

"No. My parents are an hour away. Everyone else is well outside of town. As long as I can walk I'll tough it out. I realize it's not ideal, but I'd prefer it this way." Steff muttered.

"You have your daughter full time?" Andie asked.

Steff nodded slowly. "She's been living with my parents for some months, however she’s back with me now. after this week they'll take her on the weekends for me but she’s with me the rest of the time. I've only just gotten her back with me."

"How long was she with them?" Andie was trying to understand Steff's situation.

She could sense that he was determined, even desperate to keep his daughter with him and she wondered what circumstances had kept parent and child apart and where the girl’s mother was.

"Six months, give or take. It was an agreement I had with the family court. My divorce as you might have heard was rather a sticky business. Ellie got caught in the crosshairs. But it's all settled now." Steff rubbed at his face slowly as if trying to rub away bad memories.

'I'm sorry. That sounds terrible." Andie sympathized. 

"Water under the bridge." He muttered dismissively.

After that Andie let the silence fill between them so that Steff could take his soup in peace. A little while later Ellie asked to be excused and Steff agreed and then encouraged her to go bring her pajamas so that he could help her with them. Andie moved back into the kitchen for this but she could hear Steff and his daughter quietly interact.

Steff was very methodical with his daughter and both father and child had a similar intense, quiet, and languid personalities. Ellie was far more timid than Steff was but that was likely a matter of her being so young. Andie noticed that Steff seemed to take particular care to enunciate everything he said and to wait for Ellie to focus on him as he prompted her. They seemed to have a system between them and Andie couldn't remember seeing a more complacent child.

After she was properly dressed for the night, Ellie disappeared from sight.

Andie came back into the living room at that point to take Steff's bowl back. He handed it to her on reflex without looking and thanked her. Andie thought this unusual considering they were not very well acquainted.

 Of course, nothing about their acquaintanceship felt usual. 

Your daughter's alot like you." Andie observed.

"Yes. Hopefully she grows out of some of it." Steff remarked.

"Don’t you want her to be like you?" Andie remarked passing him a fresh cup of tea. 

Steff sniffed covering his face as he cleared his air ways.

 "I believe we’ve covered the extent of my nature and it’s less desirable aspects.” Steff only half quipped. “No child is exactly like their parents no matter how strong the influence. She copies me now but soon enough she’ll be her own person.”

“You seem very deliberate with her.” Andie observed.

  
  


“Last year, Ellie came down with Scarlet Fever, and we caught it late. At first we thought the infection had impaired her hearing. While it seems to have returned mostly to normal, I'm still working with her on sounds. Sometimes, I'm not sure she can hear all of the consonants." Steff explained.

"Do you have children?" Steff asked even though he was almost sure of the answer.

"No." Andie shook her head.

"Is that something you want down the line?" He asked conversationally.

"Maybe? I don’t know. I know everyone is supposed to have these fantasies about their futures, but I never did. I've always just...Lived in the moment. No long term plans or far off expectations." Andie mused.

"Why is that, do you think?" Steff was exhausted but he found this line of conversation interesting enough to make an effort.

"I don't like to be disappointed." Andie admitted, blowing out a huff of air and shrugging.

"I see. Sounds like you've been familiar with the feeling." Steff muttered.

"Yeah well, growing up poor and being raised by a single parent can have that effect sometimes." Andie regretted her words the second they came out of her mouth. " Steff, I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by…"

Steff shook his head dismissively. "You're entitled to be honest about your own experiences and how they made you feel. That's what they say, anyway."

"Thanks. Have you taken any Aspirin yet?" Andie asked. Changing the subject.

"No." He admitted.

"I'll go get it for you." Andie got up and headed for the bedroom. 

Despite that Steff had given her an out, Andie still felt like she’d put her foot in it. She doubted Steff knew much about her life or the circumstances of her upbringing but that wasn’t an excuse for her to be inconsiderate of his present position. Logically not all children raised by single parents grew up wanting. But Steff had caught her in an honest moment and it seemed as if when she was around him it was hard for her to hold back about what she felt.

Andie argued with herself quietly under her breath and walked into Steff’s bedroom to retrieve the aspirin from his nightstand. Once she picked the bottle up she hesitated to walk back immediately. 

Steff’s bedroom was sparse but entirely filled with his presence. He slept in a large platform bed with a black leather headboard. The bed was dressed with dark taupe sheets and pillow cases and a thin neat bed spread. But there were softer touches too. Like the plush cream colored fleece throw that sat haphazard at the end of the bed.

Steff had also laid down a plush very thick floor carpet that made one want to kick off their shoes. The walls were decorated with framed posters of obscure bands that Andie hand never heard of and resting against the far wall were a bass guitar, and a steel acoustic. Was it possible he played? The evidence indicated he could. The instruments looked to be of good quality indicating he was more than a beginner. Besides his frequent sightings in Cats when they were young, Andie had never imagined Steff to be such a music aficionado. But clearly it was an interest of his.  The other furniture in the room consisted of a dresser and side table both stained in a nearly black tone, a modern looking floor lamp and bedside lamp, and a rectangular black leather automen. The room was unquestionably Steff’s. It felt and smelled like him.

Blushing slightly when she realized she’d been lingering much longer than she should have, Andie shook off the heat in her face and headed back into the living room. When she returned, however, she found Steff draped at a semi incline deeply asleep. It seemed like his body had finally given in.

Andie sighed and glanced at her watch. It was nearly seven thirty. The time had passed so quickly. Andie picked up the forgotten tea mug that was sitting on the carpet. It looked as if Steff had meant to set it down and fallen asleep before he could take his hand away from its rim. His long artistic fingers of his left hand were still grazing the mug's rim.

As she picked up the cup she hesitantly took Steff's hand and folded it back over his lap. She then adjusted the blanket to better cover him, pulled down his face mask so he could breathe better, and turned to go put the mug back in the kitchen. It was then that she saw Ellie standing near her bedroom door watching her with her large observant eyes.

“Hi, Ellie. Are you OK?” Andie asked gently. 

Ellie dropped her gaze from Andie and sighed suddenly sitting down on the floor in the doorframe. From this position she nudged a large book with an ornately illustrated cover into the hall. “Daddy reads to me at night. But he’s sick.”

The child pouted ever so slightly at this observation. 

“Oh. Yeah, kiddo. I’m not going to lie. Your daddy is sick but he just needs to sleep awhile and then he’ll be better. I can read to you if you like?” Andie offered coming slowly closer.

“Are you one of my daddy’s new friends?” The little girl demanded skeptically.

“Yeah. I’m his friend. But I knew your daddy a long time ago too.We went to school together.” Andie replied trying to keep things as simple as possible. “Ellie, since your daddy is so sick I’d like to stay around awhile. Is that OK with you?” 

Ellie seemed to think about this and eventually nodded. “Will you read to me?”

Andie smiled at the little girl’s acceptance of her. “Sure will. Come one. Let’s get you ready for bed and I’ll read for a long as you want.”

Andie took time to go through Ellie’s rituals with her supervising as she brushed her teeth and had Andie comb through her hair leaving only briefly to let Ellie use the bathroom on her own. She then tucked Ellie into her four poster bed, turned on the twinkly night light that doubled as a music box and gathered the book from the floor. As it turned out it was a copy of Peter Pan with large detailed illustrations. Its worn edges showed that the book was well loved and on the bookshelf there was a moderate collection of a few dozen other classic children's novels. Full novels not just picture books. It was an interesting thing to see. At first Andie was going to get a chair from the kitchen but, Elle made room for her on the bed clearly not satisfied if she couldn’t see the pictures and follow along.

The evening pressed on in the Mckee household and transitioned from dusk into a cool clear night. At about five in the morning Steff finally stirred as consciousness pulled him into a soft heavy awareness. Steff opened his eyes languidly and blinked alone in the dark. The apartment had a settled feeling to it that felt comforting in spite of his disease. But all too soon confusion and alarm set in when Steff realized he had fallen asleep on the couch and didn’t know where Ellie was or exactly how much time had passed. The last thing he remembered was talking with Andie Walsh about Ellie and his living situation. 

It had to have been around seven in the afternoon at that point and it was what? Steff squinted to try and read his watch in the very dim light and nearly failed. He thought it looked to be around four in the morning. That meant he’d been out an alarming nine hours. Steff groaned and forced himself to sit up. It was a feat that his body protested over but that he accomplished.

Panicked and confused Steff got up and stumbled into the kitchen flicking on the stove’s dome light so that he didn’t blind himself. He was badly parched, no doubt dehydrated from being sick. Steff stuck his head under the sink faucet and sucked down as much cool water as his stomach could take before flicking off the water and wiping his mouth on his sleeve. Preparing to find his daughter Steff turned sharply and saw the paper bag and what looked like a large sketchbook. 

Was it possible that Andie Walsh was still there? Guilt flooded over Steff at the idea that she’d felt obligated to remain and play nurse and babysitter for someone she barely knew and only vaguely liked. It was also further embarrassing that every time Andie Walsh crossed Steff’s path it was almost always completely unexpected and, so far, Steff felt he had yet to present himself as he might have liked. Even when they were young this had been the case and it annoyed him to no end that he just couldn’t seem to put himself properly together when it came to Andie.

Steff shook his insecurities off and headed for the hall. His daughter’s bedroom was open and a soft light glowed from the room. The familiarity of this light made him less concerned as he slowed and cautiously peeked into the room. What he saw not only flushed him with relief, it also caused an inadvertent smile to break across his mouth.

Andie Walsh was asleep atop the pink checkered bedspread. Ellie's favorite book was splayed open pages down cradled against her chest. She was wearing a brown knit sweater dress that brought attention to her dewy freckled face and blazing bobbed hair giving her an earthy fairy like feel. Ellie's overstuffed rabbit was nestled between them and Elie was cuddled on the other side under the comforter looking like a perfect little cherub. 

Steff watched them for a moment and then pulled back, retreating back into the kitchen to take some needed time to himself. He put the kettle on and started the coffee maker up. Took another antihistamine, and a few Aspirin and then headed for his bedroom to take a quick cool shower designed to wash away the fevered sweat and murky scent of sickness off his skin.

As he had hoped, Andie and his daughter slept through these rituals. After his shower Steff dressed in Jeans and a soft loose white button down shirt. Although he was still quite sick, the rest had done him good and he felt much more together than he had been. It was a quarter to five when he felt ready to begin his day.

Steff walked back to his daughter’s room and with great care lifted the chapter book off of Andie. When this caused her to stir, he waited for her and when Andie’s eyes fluttered open Steff circled one of her wrists with his thumb and pointer and squeezed to let her know he was there.

“It’s morning. There’s towels in my room for you if you want a shower and I’ve put some coffee on for you.” After saying this, he let her go gradually and stepped from the room.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus Steff and Andie scene not orginally in the outline. Enjoy and happy holidays!

For a second time Andie Walsh found herself bathing in Steff Mckee’s home. This time it was a shower in his private bathroom. The bathrooms in the apartment were rather extravagant and where one of the most charming aspects of the two bedroom. The main bathroom had been small, with black and white porcelain Art Deco floor tiles and white washed brick. It was just large enough for a toilet, single white porcelain sink, and a gorgeous clawfoot bath of white porcelain and a deep dark forest green on the outer side. Steff had hung a few hanging plants in the upper corner she now recalled. It had made the tiny bathroom feel entirely extravagant although she hadn’t been able to fully appreciate it at the time.

 

Steff’s private bathroom was just as impressive and consisted of a double sink, toilet, and a large rectangular shower of pristine clear glass. There were touches of lime green, black tile, and brass. Absolutely stunning. The whole apartment had art deco touches that undoubtedly were original. Although this bathroom had clearly been updated and matched to the rest of the apartment, it had been blended exceptionally well.

 

As promised an oversized towel was waiting for her neatly folded on the automon for her in his bedroom. Had she not had to worlk later that day she might have forgone a shower but she decided it wouldn’t do to work that day without one. She could change clothes at the shop. Steff kept his home minimal and tidy with the exception of his daughter’s room which was fitted with all the typical comforts and slightly skew from an active play routine. A fresh bar of simple soap still in the box was sitting between the sinks atop a washcloth and face towel also neatly folded. Steff was so meticulous. Walking into the bathroom she quietly peeked into one of the cabinets and found it neatly organized with logical toiletries. 

 

Andie closed the door behind her quietly and striped out of her dress, stockings, and underwear. Stepping easily into the flush shower she took a moment to read the bottles mounted in a holder along the front tiled panel. Most of them looked high end and of a brand she’d never heard off. The kind of stuff made of real essential oils and botanicals. She picked up one of the clear conservatively labeled bottles and popped the cap bring one to her nose. Chamomile and something else. I hint of bergamot maybe. Andie read the label. This bottle was a body wash and seemed to be part of line of products Steff prefered. Chamomile obviously seemed a theme with him. The tea she’d given him was also of the same kind. Andie noted this for future reference and set it back down. She’d settle for good old fashioned soap and reminded herself to make her shower quick.

 

Twenty minutes later, Andie emerged from the bedroom back in her dress but without her stocking. Those were tucked in the pocket of her dress. Steff didn’t appear to be in the living room and when she rounded the corner leading into the open dining and kitchen area she saw him standing cradled in the corner of the counter looking like an exhausted but determined fighter caught against the corner ropes while he waited for the bell to ding. 

 

He still looked terrible with deep dark circles under his eyes but his eyes were less red than they had been.

 

“How are you feeling this morning?” She asked as casually as possible.

 

“Like death, slightly warmed. But I’m functional enough thanks to you. I presume you drink coffee?” Steff muttered negligently. 

 

“Yep. Black.” Andie confirmed, coming around the table to collect the dishes that had been left out from Ellie’s dinner.

 

Steff noted how she busied herself and wondered if she was doing it out of some kind of begotten habit or if she was simply uncomfortable that morning.

 

“Don’t you think you’ve done enough? Sit down if you would and have some coffee. I can clear the table. Just...Relax a second. Are you always this high strung in the mornings?” Steff asked.

‘

“Actually, yes. What can I say? I’m a go getter type. And I’m not high strung. I just feel awkward being here like this.” She replied briskly, plopping down into one of the chairs and sighing uncomfortably as she ruffled a hand through her wet hair.

 

“You could have just woke me up.” He pointed out, handing her a mug of coffee before slipping into the seat across from her and sitting sideways in the chair so his body was turned away from her.

 

“I guess.” Andy conceded with a sigh. 

 

“Well if it makes you feel better once you leave we can pretend this never happened. No one has to know.” There was a vague hint of reproach in his tone as Steff looked briefly down into the mouth of his own coffee cup.

 

Andie heard the subtle disappointment in his voice and remembered the embarrassment he’d openly admitted to the previous night. 

 

“No, I’m glad I stayed.” She said abruptly. “And I won’t tell anyone about this if you don’t want me to.”

 

This time, Steff turned his gaze upon her and wondered at her offer.

 

“I didn’t realize you thought to bring me up with people.” Steff quipped, before sipping from his cup.

 

To his surprise a subtle blush rose up into her face.

 

“It’s not like people don’t know that you’ve come back here.” Andie pointed out pressing her lips at him.

 

“ _ Right _ . Everyone loves the one about the disgraced rich kid who blows back into town so he can feast upon his just desserts. I’m sure my reputation hasn’t improved on itself.”  Steff muttered.

 

“I didn’t think you were the type to care about what other people thought of you.” Andie replied.

 

Steff rolled his eyes. “ **_I don’t care_ ** . Not anymore.”

 

“Sure you do.” Andie challenged him. “But you figure there’s nothing you can do about most of it so you pretend not to give a shit.” 

 

Steff scoffed slightly and didn’t rebuttal.

 

“Look, I really won’t say anything. Your business is your business. I just wanted to help. It was really nice meeting your family. Your daughter is the sweetest thing. Take it from me, her opinion is far more important than anyone else's and it’s clear you must have been doing something right all this time. Listen, I know it’s kind of forward but if you need a sitter, you know, once in awhile, I’d be more than happy to watch her again for you. At least until you feel better. Or I can recommend some people. It’s no big deal.”

 

“Ellie doesn’t do well with new unfamiliar people.” Steff remarked.

 

“Huh. She seemed fine with me.” Andie pointed out.

 

“Clearly, you’re an exception.” He replied. “If it were anyone else, she’d be utterly uncooperative.”

 

“Well, just think about it. This is my number.” Andie pulled a mechanical pencil off her sketchbook, wrote down a number then tore the corner off the page that had been open and passed it to him.

 

Steff took it and slipped it into the pocket of his smoking Jacket.

 

“I will.” He agreed noncommittally.

 

“Alright. Well? It looks like you have everything under control now. I...Should be going." The shop opens in a few hours." She explained.

 

"Is that something your working on?" Steff asked, nudging his chin towards her sketchpad. "Seems different than what I recall your style to be."

 

Andie looked from Steff to her sketchpad and rolled her shoulder. "It's part of a consignment order. Something I do on the side now and again."

 

"I see. So you have a primary brand for your shop and then these side projects." He expounded. 

 

"Yeah. This ones is for a band. The Duckette's." She remarked not completely certain why Steff was bringing it up. 

 

"Your kidding." Steff leaned back in his chair. "I thought Annette was joking when she said someone back home had started up a tribute band to her. Whose in the band, if I may ask?"

 

Andie narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him but rattled off the Duckette's and their primary specialties.

 

When she was done Steff grunted. "Well whoever's assembled that bunch knew what he was doing. All of those women could blaze. I'm sure they must be doing very well. Although I'm surprised Lydia left the Angelous. As I recall she was pretty thick with that crew. Then again, Debra Kreger was a bitch on wheels and as I recall they never got along."

 

"Duckie said Deb broke up the band when she went solo. So, yeah. I'm assuming there was bad blood there from the start." Andie agreed. “You follow the local groups?”

 

“Mm. I used to. You wern’t the only one who hung out in Cats when we were kids.” Steff pointed out. 

 

Andie considered this and remembered her earlier speculations about Steff with Duckie and Iona. She also recalled the instruments and posters in his bedroom and found herself curious. “You play those instruments in your room or are they just for decoration?” 

 

Steff smiled thinly at her. “They’re not for decoration.”

 

Andie’s eyes widened slightly. “You. You play both of those instruments? bass and guitar.”

 

“Every guy in our high school learned to play. Acoustic and Music Appreciation were literal class electives as I’m sure you remember.” Steff was being intentionally evasive.

 

Steff made a good point. Music had been emphasized in their affluent highschool and most students either learned to play, sing, or act. Andie and taken a few of the technical classes in music appreciation but she’d mostly been a theatre kid with an emphasis on costuming.

 

“You ever done anything I would have heard about?” Andie inquired.

 

Steff considered her question. “Sophomore year. Godspell.”

“What? No. You didn’t work on Godspell. I helped costume that production.” Andie said. 

 

“I know you did.” Steff said quietly. “Who do you think played all the acoustic in that production?”

 

“That’s impossible. Andrew Prachett played guitar in that production. He was mentioned in the program.” Andie argued.

 

“You’re right. He was. And he did play for about the first three curtains but then he dipped out. Check out the year book of that year. He may have been in the program but I was in the crew pictures because I stepped in last minute and took over for the little twerp.” Steff muttered.

 

Andie couldn’t believe this information. “But why didn’t I ever see you at the cast party?”

 

“I was just an emergency stand in and anyway I always worked after the shows. Infact, I was late all through that production because it ran so long. Pain in the ass curtain calls.” Steff muttered. 

 

“I still can’t believe I never saw you.” Andie said shaking her head.

 

“I can.” Steff remarked.

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Andie asked.

 

“Forget it. It’s nothing.” Steff insisted trying to inch away from the edge of something he hadn’t intended on arousing.

 

“Come on. I can take it. Spill.” Andie pressed.

 

Steff wasn’t sure if he believed her. “You pretended to lay low in high school. As if you were unpopular or something.”

 

“I wasn’t pretending. I was unpopular. We’ve established this.” Andie insisted.

 

“Lots of people knew who you were and admired you. All the drama kids, the beatniks, even the burnouts. All the kids in the back quad knew you. As for the rest, it’s not that they didn’t give you the time of day. You were better than them and they knew that you knew it. So you walked around trying to ignore alot of them and they let you get away with it because it was easier than having to admit they couldn’t touch you and were afraid to try.” Steff revealed. 

 

“I don’t know what your talking about.” Andie said in an aloof fashion.

 

“Fine, fine. What do I know? Right? And who cares anyway.” Steff flippantly said. 

 

“Right. Who cares.” Andie echoed lightly. “Well, this has certainly been another trip. I suppose I should get going. Maybe I’ll see you around?”

 

“Sure. Thank you again for last night. I don’t know how I’ll repay you.” Steff muttered.

 

“Don’t worry about it.” Andie muttered as she pushed away from the table. “Feel better, OK?”

 

“I’ll do my best.” Steff said as he watched her gather up her sketchbook and slip on her shoes.

 

Steff got up and ambled to the front door opening it for her. “Take care, Miss Walsh.”

 

Andie felt an involuntary shiver run down her spine at the way he addressed her and shook it off. 

 

“Good morning.” She said meekly dipping out into the hall and without further hesitation headed for the stairs.

 

Steff watched her disappear and sniffed heavily once she was gone. He then silently moved to the bay window and from it’s edge observed her get into her car and head back towards her shop.

 

When she was finally far enough away Steff sighed deeply. It was going to be a long day and there was far too much to do. It was early yet, however. Steff’s business that day would keep for now. Putting down his coffee Steff padded aimlessly into his bedroom. As he went to walk towards his private bathroom he caught his acoustic guitar out of the corner of his eye and stopped suddenly. Steff pressed his lips as a particular impulse crossed his mind.

 

There had been so many times in the four years he had attended high school that Steff had crossed paths with Andie Walsh. He could remember dozens of instances. Maybe all of them if he really sat down and tried. He’d never intentionally tried to seek her out. At least not until the last time when his preoccupation with her presence finally became so unbearably poignant that he’d had to hastily confront her about it, but somehow there she had been nevertheless. He doubted she took any stock in his own presence all those years as was evidenced by how very little she seemed to know about him. 

 

Even though he’d been aware of her all through freshman year, he hadn’t started to suspect what it meant until their sophomore year production of Godspell. Although Andie had only been an assistant seamstress on the production, Steff had sometimes heard her lightly singing the show’s songs under her breath as she sewed  in the prop room which was adjacent to the narrow hall off the music pit. Had she wanted to she could have been in the production. She was a talented enough singer. Even in her soft tones Steff’s acutely sensitive hearing could pick up on her potential. Catching these little moments had been the primary reason he’d agreed to stand in for that Prachett idiot.

 

Something twinged in Steff’s chest at the memory of his time in that production and shameless color rose in his face that had nothing to do with the low grade fever he was still harboring. Annoyed with himself Steff plucked up his guitar and as not to disturb Ellie slunk back to the front of the apartment. After briefly checking that his daughter was still sound asleep, Steff opened the front door and slipped into the cool outer hall. 

 

Walking to where the steps began he settled down on the top most step and after a deep sigh shut his eyes and began to play “By My Side” from memory. It was crass at first but after a few minutes of experimentation the chords came back to him and with a strange ache in his chest that he wrote off as being part of his illness, Steff began to sing the words in a light falsetto.

 

_ Where are you going? _

_ Where are you going? _

_ Can you take me with you? _

__

_ For my hand is cold _

_ And needs warmth _

_ Where are you going? _

 

_ Far beyond where the horizon lies _

_ Where the horizon lies _

_ And the land sinks into mellow blueness _

_ Oh please, take me with you. _

 

Steff sung on even though his voice couldn’t quite handle it and when he was through he played it again, and again; as if the words and the melody could ward off feeling he didn’t want to admit  he had. They were feelings that had never really gone away and now were once again threaten to stir. Steff refused to acknowledge them. He couldn’t afford to be distracted by things that were simply a matter of nostalgia. 

 

~@~

 

Andie went back to her shop. As usual on a Monday morning there was plenty to do. Andie wanted to redress the window display and of course she wanted to finish the sketches for Duckie. The more she tried to focus on work though the more her mind seemed to wander. As she worked setting up the shop for the day Andie couldn’t help but replay the conversation she’d had with Steff Mckee earlier that morning.

 

The more she thought about it, the more a seed of curiosity began to bloom. By nine she had to do something with herself and phoned Duckie.

 

“Hey, it’s me. Duckie you wouldn’t happen to have any of our old yearbooks somewhere, would you? You do? All four years. Yeah, mine are somewhere, but I have no idea where. Do you think you could bring them over? I want to look at something. Yeah. Great. I’ll see you in a few. Sure. I’ll meet you over at Trax.”

 

Conveniently, Jena arrived just as she got off the phone and agreed to handle the store so that Andie could conference with her other friends.

 

“Well here they are. I’ll have you know these weren’t easy to dig up.” Duckie said in his rapt staccato as he dropped a small square box in the center of Iona’s counter a little while later.

 

“Oh my God. I love yearbooks. I love the way they smell. Like adolescent insecurity and wishful thinking.” Iona mused.

 

Andie laughed lightly. “Stop it. Gosh would you look at these? It’s been like nearly fifteen years since we were high school freshmen. God. Where did all the time go?”

 

“I, for one, do not miss highschool.” Duckie muttered. “I mean, come on. Ye-ulck. Although, I did look good. I mean, check out the height on that pompadour. That was  _ not _ an easy look to pull off. But damn I nailed it.” Duckie said as he poked through Freshman year.

 

“Yeah. You were the most stylish dork of our graduating class.” Andie quipped.

 

“Well I know _ Annette _ certainly thought so.” Duckie asserted. “Still does, in fact.”

 

“Yo Duckman. When are you going to lock that sweetness of yours down?” Iona pressed.

 

“Annette and I are busy people. We’re trying to keep it casual. No pressure.” Duckie said smoothly.

 

“Oh yeah? It’s been almost ten years, Duck.” Andie reminded him.

 

“True, but Annette’s a career kinda gal. Hell, I’m a career kind of guy. It takes time to build an empire. Don’t you worry. I got everything in hand. You two just worry about your own romantic lives.” Duckie said, waving his hand in a shooing fashion at them.

 

Andie picked up the Sophomore yearbook and began paging slowly through it. At first she wasn’t really looking for anything in particular although she had asked Duckie to bring the year books for a specific reason. 

 

“Oh god. Look at this. God my hair.” Andie winced.

 

“Oh yeah. I remember that phase.” Duckie muttered. “I never got why you thought you needed a perm. You looked like Orphan Annie for like six months.”

 

“I know.” Andie groaned. “It wasn’t supposed to be that severe. I did it at home and I screwed it up and then didn’t know how to fix it. Slicked back along the sides it looked passable but I practically had to use glue to keep it that way all day.”

 

“Lots of kids had bad perms in those days and many of those were professionally inflicted. I mean, have you looked at some of these? Gosh. Brings me back. I loved big hair. I’d kill to be able to still get that kind of natural volume. Now the only way I get close is by using a wig. Not that I don’t make this look good.” Iona was referring to the nearly shaved look she was currently sporting.

 

“You're gorgeous and you know it.” Duckie confirmed as Iona made a moon eyed kissy expression at him.

 

“You know looking back at some of these, I somehow don’t remember some of these people this way.” Andie remarked. 

 

“Oh yeah? Let me see.” Duckie muttered as he sidled up to her and tried to pinpoint an example.

 

“Well I mean look at Tori Gallager. Sophomore year I never realized  how much she was working on herself. The braces, the glasses, the ratted hair...I mean, do you remember her giving the closing speech at graduation? I was convinced she was Cher’s long lost twin.”

 

“Who knew a four inch growth spurt, contact lenses, and straight teeth would make such a difference.  You know I heard she became a top executive at a fortune five hundred company? I mean, da-amn. Talk about a triple threat. Brains, beauty, and six figure career to show for it.” Duckie cooed. 

 

Andie chuckled and shook her head at him. As she continued to look through the various faces she caught sight of Steff’s photo and her mouth went agap. 

 

“Holy shit. You guys. Look at this.” An die tapped at the page drawing their attention to the same picture that had caught here eye.

 

“Hot damn. What was he going through? A young Republicans stage? I thought he was born with that feathered hair of his. Seriously, I always thought of him like a male Farrah Fawcett. Wait...Wait. This has got to be a joke. Let me see the other yearbooks.” Duckie insisted.

 

Leaving the -'d took another year and paged through them in search of some indication of the logical progression of Steff Mckee over the years.

 

“Young Reublican? Seems to me he started out as more of a John Lennon type. Check out those frames.” Iona fanned herself as she felt a hot flash start to come on.

 

“If he weren’t so handsome he’d almost pass for an intellectual instead of a pretty boy in that first picture.” Duckie muttered.

 

“His looks aside, no one ever said Steff Mckee wasn’t cultured or intelligent.” Andie argued.

 

“True. But I think everyone here can agree he was an asshole.” Duckie shot back.

 

“Do we really know that for sure. I mean, you and I both know he pulled some shady shit senior year but in all honesty what do you or I honestly know about him beyond that?” Andie protested.

 

Duckie tilted his head in confusion. "Since when did you start defending him of all people?"

 

"I'm not. I just think that maybe Iona is right. Maybe there was more to someone like Steff than we gave him credit for." Andie said.

 

Had she not promised to keep their camp out to herself, Andie might have shared the insider information she'd gained earlier that morning at Steff McKee's breakfast table. Instead, she paged through sophomore year until she found what she had originally wanted to look for.

 

Although Steff had no reason to lie to her, Andie hadn't really believed his story until she saw the proof on the page. In the snapshot of the stage and pit crew for Goodspell, Steff McKee was indeed in the picture nestled among the other musicians in the lower right hand corner. His guitar was slung across his back shoulder.

 

"Hey. See this? Did you know Steff played the guitar for that production of Godspell?" She asked tapping at Steff's image.

 

Duckie glanced at the photo and with a look of mild surprise shook his head to the negative. 

 

Andy continued to page through the yearbook looking through the student club section. "Look. Here he is again with the honors  society. I wonder if he was a member all four years?"

 

When the three of them compared yearbooks they discovered he had. Freshman and sophomore year they also found his image cited as an se boundary editor of the Daily. The campus newspaper. And sophomore, junior, and senior year he could also be found standing along side the French Club, the chess and forensics teams, and the campus's financial committee.

 

 Scattered through the latter years were a few candid photos seemingly take while Steff was unaware. Most of these hinted at a reclusive nature and shy and pragmatic temperment.

 

"For being an asshole the guy seems incredibly ⁵well rounded." Iona observed.

 

"I don't understand what everyone is getting all excited over. So he took part in a few social clubs. Big deal. He was still a rich kid jerk-off. As far as I'm concerned there are just some things in life that are definitively unforgivable and there's nothing anyone can say to make me think otherwise. Nada. Zip." Duckie said at length.

 

"Well if the rumors are to be believed, he's not rich anymore." Andie muttered. "Who knows what he's really like now."

 

Duckie shook his head disapprovingly at this assessment and glanced at his watch. "Shit. This has been fun ladies, but I gotta jet. I'll see you later to finalize those designs for the girls. Keep the yearbook as long as you want."

 

Duckie leaned over the counter and gave Iona a kiss on the cheek and then  did the same to Andie.

 

"Oh and remember, ladies. Don't do anything I would do without me. Or if you must, make it sexy and take photos." Duckie quipped.

 

When he was finally gone, Iona came around the counter and studied Andie.

 

"You know, something tells me you've been up to something." Iona observed.

 

"Yeah, I have. But I can't spill about it. I promised." Andie remarked honestly.

 

"Oh, cute. This wouldn't have anything to do with a certain neighbor with languid bedroom eyes. Would it? No. Don't confirm or deny that. I don't really want to know. Yet, anyway." Iona teased. "So what's your next move, girlfriend?"

 

"I don't really think there is a next move." Andie suggested.

 

'Uh huh. Right." Iona sighed. "Still, it might be kinda interesting to invent one sometime. You know, for the sake of it."

 

"Do you even know what your talking about?" Andie asked, shaking her head.

 

"Probably not. But I bet you a dime your new friend is thinking real hard about it." Iona assured her. "Come on. Let's go try on my new wigs. I'm feeling adventurous."

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



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